The Fox Woman of Ionia
by GrimGrave
Summary: "Have you ever heard the myths of the Kumiho? Legends say that foxes that live for a 1000 years can freely shapeshift into a human." Lost and mentally scarred from war, the self-imposed Exile wanders aimlessly in search for something she doesn't even know the identity of. She goes where the wind guides her, eventually leading her back to Ionia... AU, rated M for Mature themes.
1. Prologue - In The Snow

Disclaimer: League of Legends belongs to Riot Games. GrimGrave does not own any of the characters or make money out of writing fiction.

_Beta-read by, as always, the wonderful Supreme Distraction! Thanks hun! :3_

_**The Fox Woman of Ionia**_

_**Prologue**_

_In The Snow_

After a couple of days at sea, there was finally a landmass on the horizon.

"We're nearing the Ionian harbour," a burly middle-aged man stated. He was the captain and his ship - a Barquentine that had seen better days - was currently making its way through icy waters.

His passenger nodded at him but spoke no words, merely peering at her destination: Ionia, a spiritual nation that valued harmony and peace above everything else.

So why was she going there again? Hell if she knew. For closure? Possibly. She was wandering, after all; she went where the wind guided her. She had no attachments to any one place – not anymore.

Besides, anywhere was better than Noxus.

* * *

Perhaps coming to Ionia hadn't been the wisest of decisions, at least not now: winter had long since arrived, carrying snow and harsh winds that cut to the bone and made it near impossible to remain outside.

Near the woods, far from any Ionian settlements, a lone humanoid figure – a wanderer or a warrior, one might say – was marching on, with only a thick, brown hooded cloak to provide warmth and equipped with (what used to be) a greatsword strapped onto her back.

The frigid weather wasn't merciful and, while it didn't compare to the mighty winds of the Freljord – a onetime experience in her long, aimless journey – it would certainly wear you down if you were not properly dressed.

Tattered remains of armour and cloth did not function well as winter attire.

She certainly wasn't used to climates such as this. No, Noxus was entirely different, in fact, it was the complete opposite: you constantly fought or trained, and a cool breeze was a rare thing to occur in that harsh environment where compassion is weakness.

The strong eat the weak. Survival of the fittest. The perfect synopsis for her former homeland, where morals and benevolence was scoffed at – you fight, and you live.

Show mercy and you'll die.

In Noxus, only the hot winds of war blew.

However, the gale winds had ceased for the time being, making this ample opportunity to hunt for food.

Not having any money only gave the wanderer this much choice.

"There should be enough time," she said to herself, her voice soft but firm. "I'm getting hungry…"

As if on cue, there was a low grumbling sound from her stomach and she swore, increasing her pace through thick snow as she entered the woods: a serene gathering of trees covered with the winter's blanket.

There had to be game somewhere. Brown orbs were trained on the ground, watching vigilantly for something the snow would help her find – tracks.

She made her way deeper into the woods despite the chilling numbness that had begun to take hold of her feet due to lack of proper footwear. Nothing she couldn't handle though – she was a warrior at heart, after all.

Still, combined with a growing hunger, it was definitely not a good idea to idle too long out here.

* * *

How long had it been now? She had lost sense of time. All she knew was that no game had been found as of yet, and the winds were beginning to kick up.

This was starting to become vexing.

As she turned in a different direction, there was something that broke the silence: a high-pitched yowl.

Whipping her head in the direction of the sound, toned hand grabbing the hilt of the giant broken blade, she dashed forward. The yowling continued, growing louder as the warrior got closer. Once she knew it was just a stone-throw away she halted, crouching for a subtle approach through the vegetation. A loud screech came, and almost had the sword-wielder covering her ears.

_´What's this now?´_ she thought, moving closer to the source of the sound. Upon reaching the small hillside clearing, the warrior stopped mid-step, amazed by the sight before her: in a crude bear-trap with jagged iron teeth, a small, slender creature with pure, snow white fur thrashed about – a fox.

With its tail stuck in the trap, the fox could only yelp painfully as it desperately attempted to free itself to no avail.

Lost in the sight of such an awe-inspiring creature – that sleek white coat alone was captivating to behold and the whirling snow glimmered on its fur, making it more akin to a radiant beam of moonlight – she watched it, admiring it even as she did. Even its throes looked like a majestic dance.

Her stomach grumbled, louder this time due to prolonged lack of substance, which not only snapped the warrior back to her senses, but alarmed the fox of her presence, prompting it to growl menacingly.

The vulpine bristled as soon as the Exile took a step closer, but made no attempt to attack – its trapped tail prevented it from doing anything.

Pitiful.

She smiled apologetically at the animal. "Cruel, isn't it?" she said. "You can't even run away, much less defend yourself. So here you are, trapped, and I'm hungry."

Truly pitiful. It was a shame to end the life of such an alluring animal – which she didn't have a reason to kill otherwise – but hunger had her seeing only one thing: meat.

Was it worth it, though? What joy was there in killing something that was defenceless? Much like—

Brown eyes widened.

Memories of her past came back to her: _screams, blood, and the smell of copper and smoke._

The broken greatsword was unsheathed from the strap on her back, held in her hand as if it weighed nothing, and she swung downwards.

The fox whimpered softly, quivering as it awaited the end… that didn't come.

It opened its eyes, looking to the human and her weapon, concern and confusion visible in its gaze.

The broken blade was just an inch or two away from striking its body and the warrior sighed. "…No. You're far too beautiful to be killed. How could I slay such a magnificent creature when it can't even defend itself?"

She stared at the fox, a pitiful look in her eyes and it stared back, dark brown meeting ochre, and for a moment the warrior was almost certain that the vulpine understood her. There was something in its eyes that she couldn't put her finger on…

She almost reached out to pat it, but her instincts suggested otherwise.

"Aren't you a lucky one…?" Her expression softened. "I suppose I'll have to find food elsewhere."

With a mighty swing she broke the trap and, with its grasp gone, the fox sprinted a good distance up the hill before halting and looking back at the warrior.

The warrior allowed a vague smile. "Go on. Live another day," she called out. "And don't get caught in another trap!"

Ochre eyes lingered on the human for a moment longer and, after some hesitation, the fox was quickly out of sight.

She sheathed the blade behind her back and brushed an ashen-blonde lock of hair behind her ear. Her stomach growled with hunger and she swore under her breath. "Shit…"

Riven continued into the forest, determined to find food before the winds really picked up. The sword-wielder was on the verge of giving up when she happened upon tracks – multiple ones – from some kind of hoofed animal. Whatever it was, it would be her meal and from the looks of it, the creature had passed through recently.

"Looks like I have some luck, too."

The warrior dashed forward, a hand on the hilt of her blade, following the tracks to the west; unaware of the ochre orbs watching her from afar.

* * *

_Feedback is most welcome! :D_


	2. Chapter 1 - The Festival of Fire

Disclaimer: League of Legends belongs to Riot Games. GrimGrave does not own any of the characters or make money out of writing fiction.

_Beta-read by my wonderful Beta-Buddy, __**Supreme Distraction! **__:3_

_**The Fox Woman of Ionia**_

_**Chapter 1**_

_The Festival of Fire_

**4 months later**

_/Towering fires. A choir of screams. A rain of ashes and embers upon grounds covered with blood and biochemical fluids._

_Death-death all around her, wherever she looked, surrounded by corpses, victims of a unspeakably horrific end and pure gruesome terror plastered on their sickening white faces. _

_Dark brown eyes widened._

_Ionians and Noxians alike –foes and friends – had met death at the hand of the Zaunite biochemical weapons._

_Her stomach turned, and her head spun as vision blurred – she felt nauseous, her heart pounding against ribs and the pumping of blood echoing in her ears._

_Panic – sheer unrestraint terror – overwhelmed the field-commander and she ran across bodies and rubble to… where? _

_Where was she going?_

_Anywhere—anywhere but here!/_

Riven bolted upright from her bed with a loud gasp, heart racing beneath her breast. She was covered in cold sweat and pale tresses were messy from tossing and turning in her sleep.

_´That nightmare again…´_

How many years had it been now?

Rage surged within swordswoman until knuckles turned white and teeth were clenched and bared. "Singed…"

Control. She took a deep breath, steadying her breathing. Focus. Another deep breath – in through the nose, out through the mouth. Repeat.

_Focus is essential _– words from her old drill instructor years ago.

Somewhat calm, Riven got out of bed – a cheap mattress filled with hay and a thin pillow – and got dressed. The room had seen better days, but it was the only thing she could afford with what little gold she could earn from mercenary work.

She was lucky that she had managed to find someone who was even _willing_ to offer her – a Noxian – a room, even if it was temporary.

Having wandered the island nation for months, Riven was thankful for at the very least have a roof over her head most nights, not being fond of sleeping outdoors, especially on chilly nights. A stale bed beat grass and log most of the times, and having somewhere to call "camp" made things easier when she was out, searching.

What was she even searching for to begin with? There was closure… but she didn't have the faintest idea of how to obtain it. Ionia was a spiritual nation, with peace and tranquillity as its cornerstones—the exact opposite of Noxus. Perhaps that influence could help her with inner demons…

If she was honest with herself, Riven knew it was a foolish hope. Yet here she was, in Ionia, and she had been for months, dedicated to her wanderlust across the nation. It wasn't like she was wasting time, for all the Exile did was journeying; visiting one place after another and gaining new experiences.

With a heavy sigh, the pale-haired woman grabbed her broken blade and sheathed it across her back, and headed out.

* * *

"There you are, _Noxian_," a burly, muscular man said, his arms firmly crossed over a toned chest. "There's work to do, so get crackin´ and load the cargo into the warehouse."

Riven merely nodded at the man – her employer – doing what she was told and walked over to the large boxes, lifting one up. Not a glorious job, but it was at least one way to earn a few gold coins so she wouldn't have to hunt for food or sleep outside even though the weather would allow her to.

Besides, though the deed was small and insignificant, in Riven's eyes it was the least she could do for the Ionians.

Marching back and forth between the docks and the warehouse, she heard the townspeople murmur, some more audible than others, and shooting her dirty looks. The Exile didn't mind though; their words were nothing compared to the guilt that lay heavy in her heart.

"_Hey, you excited for tonight?"_ a voice asked.

The pale-haired mercenary's ears pricked up as she continued the manual labour.

"_Yeah, the Festival of Fire is going to be perfect!"_ another person said.

Right. The Festival of Fire. Riven remembered hearing about it these last couple of weeks – it was an Ionian event celebrating the coming of the spring equinox, which in fact was today. Come to think of it, Placidium – the capital of Ionia – had been decorated and prepared for the festival these last few days, and festivities had already begun since this morning.

Perfect. As if the capital city wasn't already filled with large gatherings of people. Riven preferred solitude or, at best, a minimum of people around her.

Shrugging the thought off, the mercenary continued her work, hefting a larger box onto her right shoulder. She didn't pay it any mind, being used to the scrutinizing glares, but at the back of her mind she registered a presence that wasn't glaring daggers…

**X.x.X.x.X**

Hours later, after having unloaded various cargo boxes at the harbour, Riven noticed the sun was beginning to drift down towards the horizon, the sky starting to turn slightly crimson.

With a small brown bag containing her payment in her pocket, the Exile wandered the streets aimlessly, ignoring people's stares. The preparations for the festival were pretty much complete but the real festivities themselves wouldn't begin until later and continue well into tomorrow.

Normally, Riven wouldn't have had anything to do with the festival and avoided gatherings, but this was a chance for the closure she sought. According to Ionians, the Festival of Fire was a celebration for the cleansing and rebirth of one's spirit—befitting of a people that sought spiritual enlightenment above everything else.

Surely she could put up with being surrounded by people for one day?

…

Well, she was here now so she might as well give it a chance, though it was against her better judgement. Anything to distract her from the inner demons, she rationalized.

The Exile halted and spun quickly around. That presence again… there was no mistake this time, someone was definitely watching her.

The Ionians stared quizzically at her as they walked by, but none matched that presence – it wasn't a cold stare like she was used to but instead… warm? No malice, no ill intent.

Riven's warrior's intuition told her she was being followed. And whoever it was, he or she was hiding from sight.

Frowning, the pale-haired woman turned on her heel and continued down the street at a quickened pace. She didn't like the feeling of being observed like this, but the last thing she wanted to do was to cause any trouble.

Whoever it was would probably (read: hopefully) lose interest or lose sight of her.

**X.x.X.x.X**

Come evening, the Festival of Fire had reached its peak: Ionians were cheering and laughing, new stalls and vendors making business, and all the food and drink one could have were laid out before them.

People from all over Ionia had travelled to the capital to participate in the festival, with the main hub being the Serene Gardens, where they could write and hang scrolls containing their woes and worries on the flowered branches of the Great Tree, in hope of being cleansed of them.

_´Superstitions…´_

That's what the pale-haired warrior thought, and yet here she was. The Great Tree was a sight to behold, she had to admit: its flowers glowed in the early dark, the leaves a vibrant green that was pleasing to the eye.

Her hand clenched around the tattered scroll. It felt… weird, for the lack of a better word, to have written down her woes on a piece of paper like this. Still, she tied it to a branch and promptly left, ignoring peoples' stares.

Superstition or not, if there was even a fragment of a chance…

Riven returned to a small building she had passed on her way to the gardens – a local pub called _Spiritual Guidance_ – and once inside, took a seat at the front of the bar, hefting her greatsword and letting it lean against the counter. She'd be damned if she missed out on the delicious food and drink that was being served all over Placidium.

And if she was completely honest, this rice-wine wasn't bad.

"_I hear Miss Akali is going to play the role of Reina again!"_

"_I know! Oh, she's so beautiful…"_

More gossip picked up amidst the mix of conversations. Apparently, theatrical performances were a tradition come the Festival of Fire. And this "Akali" was popular enough to be part of this play.

The Exile took another sip of the rice-wine, contemplating. Ionians really amazed her, in a way: they were selfless, easy-going, and yet they didn't hesitate to get their hands dirty. In comparison, they had achieved so much more than the other city-states.

Freljord was still in a power-struggle between two tribes and Demacia, while pure and noble, suffered from hypocrisy and a zealous sense of "justice." Piltover wasn't bad, but the abundance of advanced technology left little to no nature—as if nothing could work unless powered, or aided, by machinery. And Zaun…

It was no better, nor different, from Noxus. And with their ties to said city-state, the warrior would see red.

No, Ionians were one of a kind. That's why she was here, wasn't it?

"What do we have here then?" a tall man said, interrupting the pale-haired woman's train of thought as he approached Riven. Dark-brown eyes glanced over at him briefly, then drifting back to her drink. "That blade at your side… you're a Noxian."

She could practically _feel_ the numerous pairs of eyes that immediately shifted over to her.

Perfect.

"What's a Noxian doing here?" someone said from across the pub.

"Get her out of here…" another patron said.

The man glared daggers at Riven, but she remained unfazed. "How dare you setting foot in Placidium, let alone Ionia, after what your kind did?"

She sighed. "If your harsh remarks could bring your people back, I'd let you make them a thousand times over. But it won't, so stop wasting my time and your energy."

The man bristled. "Why you-!"

"_Is there a problem here?"_

The man – and the rest of the patrons – went silent, prompting the exiled warrior to turn around to see a woman: her hair was long and silver, and she was clad in a strange red and white garb, with a floating object following suit behind her, as if part of her attire.

The woman looked young, but she was far different from the other Ionians. Those eyes were eyes of a warrior – someone who had seen a fair share death.

Those same orbs met Riven's for a moment before she crossed her arms. "I repeat: is there a problem here?"

The Ionian man seemed to be at a loss for words, but eventually he managed to point at Riven. "F-forgive me, Miss Irelia. But this Noxian here-"

"Noxian?" the woman, named Irelia, looked over at the Exile, her face blank. She walked over to her, arms still folded. "I find it a bit surprising to see a Noxian in the middle of the capital, enjoying herself. What's your name?"

The swordswoman didn't hesitate. "Riven."

Irelia nodded. "What is your business here, Riven?"

"Closure," she replied. "Tranquillity. Enlightenment. Atonement."

"It's strange to hear those words from a warrior of Noxus."

"My allegiance lies with contracts," the warrior replied. "As a mercenary and an exile, I am not bound to Noxus. My stay here is for peaceful reasons."

The silver-haired woman paused and studied the Exile with a slightly perplexed look. Her eyes then happened to drift down to the remains of the greatsword. "Your blade appears be broken."

"A sword mirrors its owner," came the flat reply and, for a second, Riven swore she saw a flash of empathy in Irelia's eyes.

"The weight you carry hangs in the very air around you," the silver-haired woman remarked. "I hope you'll find what you seek." With that, she spun around, facing the patrons. "Nothing to see here, people! Eat, drink, and be merry!"

With a last pitying look, Irelia left the building and the patrons continued celebrating, thus leaving Riven to enjoy her drink.

**X.x.X.x.X**

Later, the pale-haired swordswoman had ordered some food to go with her drink; a dish made especially for the occasion: a beef-broth soup with unsweetened, sliced ovals of rice-cakes and vegetables. Though slightly odd-looking, it tasted delicious.

As a way of entertaining herself, Riven listened in on the other patrons' conversations while she enjoyed her meal. Some more talk about "a certain Noxian," nothing new, others kept discussing the beauty of this "Akali" woman and how the play she'd perform in would be great. And apparently this Irelia-character was the captain of the Ionian Guard.

_´Looks like I managed to dodge a bullet there…´_

"_I really don't like nights such as this…"_

Her ears pricked up as the couple of men behind her talked.

"_Huh? Why's that?" _another man inquired, his speech slightly slurred.

"_It's nights like these that they say people are spirited away. Don't tell me you haven't heard! Over the years, people are said to have vanished from the countryside."_

_*hic* "It's just superstition, man."_

"_It's true! Have you ever heard the myths of the __**kumiho**__? Legends say that foxes that live for 1000 years can freely shapeshift into a human!"_

"…_Uhu. So?"_

"_They are said to take the shape of beautiful, bewitching women in order to lure men away and eat their hearts and livers! And with the Festival of Fire going on, this is a perfect chance to abduct people without notice!"_

"…_You're way too superstitious. They're just myths you know."_

Indeed. It really was false belief.

The two men continued to argue about the myths and legends, but Riven paid no attention to it. She was content with eating her food, seeing that going to bed wasn't an option – not with all this noise going on.

And judging by the roars and cheers outside, the festival was really kicking it up now. Music was playing, people laughed, and everyone was having a good time.

And yet the only thing Riven found enjoyable was the food and drinks.

Speaking of beverages, a white bottle was set down in front of her as the bartender immediately put down another glass, filled with said drink.

Her expression was blank. "Excuse me, I didn't order this."

"I know," the bartender replied with a small frown. "It's from the lady over there." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, towards a rather… _stunning_ woman leaning against one of the wooden columns.

She appeared to be the same height as Riven, if not slightly shorter, with an hourglass-form that definitely caught one's attention and ample cleavage that was at risk of spilling out of their confinement. She wore a modern, trendy kimono that was scarlet at the top and white at the bottom, with a fengshui charm that reached down to the floor, attached at the hem of the top part. Skin that wasn't covered by cloth was milky pale, and her tresses were black, twisted into a long braid that reached her hips.

Azure, almond-shaped eyes were watching the swordswoman with such… _warmth._ It was unsettling in a way.

The raven-haired woman's lips quirked into a smirk as soon as eye-contact was made and she moved, walking over to sit next to Riven, resting her chin in her palm. "Hi there. You looked like you could use something stronger."

Riven cocked an eyebrow as she shot a quizzical look at the woman. "What do you want?"

The stranger appeared taken aback at first, but was laughing softly into the back of her hand shortly after. "My apologies. I guess I should've introduced myself first!" She held out her hand with a smile. "My name is Ahri."

"…Riven," the pale-haired warrior replied, shaking Ahri's hand after some hesitation. "And my question remains the same."

_´Strange woman…´_

"I merely wish to spend the evening with you, Riven. You looked… lonely," the busty woman remarked, her smile faltering slightly. "So, as a gesture of good will, this drink is on me; one of the finest beverages in Ionia, _Soju_ spirit."

"Soju?" the Noxian asked, holding the glass up to her nose – it smelled sweet. Ahri was already pouring herself some Soju, humming happily as she did so, and held out her cup. The Exile noticed that this woman also had blue nails, for whatever reason.

"Cheers!"

_´I suppose I can humour her. We'll part ways before long,´ _she thought, lifting her glass to meet the brunette's, and drinking it all in one go.

While sweet and clear, the sheer alcohol volume took Riven by surprise, causing her to stifle a cough. "This… is strong."

"But oh, so good~" the raven-haired woman exclaimed with a soft hum. "It's only one of the best though. I have better ones back home, but let's save that for another time, yeah?"

"…Sure." She hadn't meant for it to come out as condescending, but the Noxian wasn't sure she'd ever meet this woman again. Strangely (and perhaps fortunately) the woman showed no sign of having picked up on the tone.

"So, Riven." What was it the way Ahri said her name that was so… enticing? It rolled off her tongue so nicely… "What's your business here, aside from the festival?" She poured herself and the Exile another drink.

"I didn't come here for the festival."

A short laugh. "You chose the worst city to escape the festivities then. The smaller villages don't even celebrate nearly as long."

There was a pause as the former field-commander took a swig of her Soju. "Perhaps."

"Not much of a talker, are you?" The raven-haired woman cocked her head to the side. "I feel that this is rather one-sided."

The swordswoman shot her a blank expression. "Not really. I'm not a people person."

"And yet I'm slowly learning more and more about you~" Ahri replied with a giggle. "So, I take it you're renting a room somewhere around here, right?"

Riven nodded.

"I could offer you free lodging, you know." A sly smile quirked the Ionian's lips before she raised her glass, gulping down its contents in one go. "It would save you the little gold you're earning."

A thin eyebrow arched. "How would you know about my payment, let alone my job?"

"Intuition," she was quick to reply. "I don't think a Noxian would get paid good money here, regardless of the job."

This situation was getting more and more odd. "You know about me being a Noxian… Yet you offer me free lodging? Why would you be so friendly as to freely invite a stranger into your home for the night? I could be someone dangerous."

The smile on Ahri's face was sincere, azure orbs staring amiably. "I have a fair reason to believe that you're a very good person, even if you don't show it outright. Call it a hunch."

Riven found herself at a loss for words. Just what was it with this woman? They hadn't been talking for long and yet there was something about her that—

Ugh. She couldn't even put her finger on it.

It would be helpful to save what little gold she was earning, however, the fact remained that she was a stranger – a random woman who decided to be friendly. A bit _too _friendly.

And she was gorgeous- … had good looks.

The warrior asked, albeit with some hesitation, "Are you a courtesan?"

Ahri nearly spat out her drink, flabbergasted, and her eyes widened. "Pardon?"

"You've been unreserved with wanting to bring me home with you."

The Ionian just stared at her for a moment, taken aback, until she laughed airily. "You think that's what this is about? Riven, dear, it's simple: I think you and I will get along, _just fine_." Her voice was sultry and coquettish, and the Exile would be lying if she claimed that didn't affect her… just a little. "A stranger is a friend you've yet to meet. There's something about you, that much I know," she added, smiling.

That was… thoughtful. Odd, still, but thoughtful. And again, it would be helpful if she could save up a little… Besides it wasn't as though she felt any ill intent from the Ionian.

Quite the contrary.

Riven sighed. "Then… I accept your offer."

"Good!" Ahri's eyes lit up with joy and she smiled, flashing pearl-white teeth before grabbing the pale-haired woman by the arm. "Then let us hurry – if we're quick enough, we'll get the best view of the fireworks-show before it starts!"

The warrior barely had time to grab her greatsword before the raven-haired Ionian hurriedly dragged her out of the pub.

**X.x.X.x.X**

Ahri's home turned out to be just outside of the capital city: a lone traditional Ionian house – a hanok – nestled in a small meadow. While not nearly as beautiful on the outside as those in Placidium, it wasn't shabby.

And the interior proved to be a lot more humble: it was spacious, with mostly the bare necessities and few, limited "luxury items."

It beat Riven's room at the inn by miles.

"Make yourself at home," the Ionian purred with a wink. "But not too much! We need to head out soon – I just need to go fetch something."

"…Okay." The warrior crossed her arms and took a look around. It really was… nice, for the lack of a better word. Cozy, even. Neat and tidy to boot.

Still, she had to be on her toes. If she let her guard down—

The raven-haired woman came back in hurry, a bottle in one hand and a pair of small glass-cups in the other. "Quickly now, outside. It's about to start!"

Partly baffled, she followed her hostess out as the brunette put down the cups and opened up the bottle, pouring its liquid into the cups.

She handed one over to the Exile, grinning. "Here. Try some."

The former field-commander accepted the cup and stared: the liquor was amber in colour, and smelled… well, not too pleasantly.

Just then, the first firework shot up into the night sky, flashing a bright red before it was joined by orange, green, and more red, brightening up the open air with their colourful explosions.

"Oh, it's begun!" Ahri exclaimed. "Cheers, Riven."

Without thought, the warrior gently raised her glass to her hostess's, and took a swig. The smell really didn't do much for her, but the taste was… well…

"What is this?"

Mirth shone in almond-shaped eyes. "Snake-blood wine. My favourite beverage."

The taste lingered in her mouth, and a pink tongue flicked out to wipe her lips clean. "…It's good." It really was, though it had some sort of medicinal aftertaste.

She gulped down the rest, ignoring the scent. Riven wasn't a heavy drinker or one to drown her sorrows in alcohol – it was always in moderation – but this…

"May I ask for a refill?"

The sky shone bright with crimson and the warrior looked up as more fireworks shot up from the capital. This was… new. Refreshing. Back in Noxus, it had always been dark, the only thing to light up the nights being the roaring flames from workshops and smiths.

To see such vivid colours tear up the darkness was, in an odd way, soothing.

And for this one moment, Riven allowed herself to forget her troubles, her inner demons at ease as dark-brown orbs stared in awe at the clear, bright sky.

* * *

_Hope you all enjoyed it so far! :3_


	3. Chapter 2 - Fox's Craft

Disclaimer: League of Legends belongs to Riot Games. GrimGrave does not own any of the characters or make money out of writing fiction.

Beta-read by the fabulous **Supreme Distraction**! :3

_**The Fox Woman of Ionia**_

_**Chapter 2**_

_Fox's Craft_

Morning arrived. Birds chirped and the sun was rising from the horizon.

Dark-brown eyes moved from the rays of light over the Exile's sleeping form, and the warrior came around. Her body arched and she nuzzled against the cool, soft, comfortable surface of the pillows and duvet – it felt nice.

Opening her tired eyes and allowing them to adapt to the light, the swordswoman reminisced about the night before: she remembered the fireworks that coloured the night sky, the delicious snake-blood wine that she still could taste in her mouth, and the overjoyed woman named _Ahri_, who had offered her a place to stay.

And what a night it had been. How long had she and the energetic Ionian been talking (mostly the brunette, though) as the night drifted by? How many drinks had they shared underneath the vivid sky?

If the Exile had been completely honest with herself, she had liked it. Granted, she had been more of a listener than a talker, but it had nonetheless been an enjoyable moment in her otherwise somber life.

Looking back at the cheap inn's bed, this futon the Ionian had offered beat it by miles. Ahri had also respected her privacy and kindly enough let the Noxian sleep in a separate room. The swordswoman preferred it that way.

Riven reached up and tucked away a few messy pale locks as realization hit her: there had not been any nightmares plaguing her for the whole night. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt rested, at peace, and... Serene.

_´Dare I hope that I'm on the right path?´_

With hope budding within her chest, Riven allowed the corners of her lips to curve into a barely noticeable smile as she closed her eyes and drifted back into a light state of unconsciousness.

_´Just a moment longer…´_

**X.x.X.x.X**

The shoji screen doors were silently opened and the Ionian stepped inside the room, closing the doors behind her just as soundlessly. Her azure orbs fixated on the sleeping guest, eyeing her amicably.

Ahri's pink lips formed a smile and she crossed the room quietly and kneeled down at the swordswoman's side, a pale hand reaching out to brush loose strands aside to reveal her calm, peaceful face.

"Riven…"

As if she had heard, the Noxian stirred slightly and released a tired groan, prompting the raven-haired woman to quickly withdraw her hand. The hostess sat there a moment longer, simply staring at her guest with a warm smile before she stood up and headed to the second pair of shoji screens on the left side of the room.

Ahri stopped at the threshold and glanced back at Riven one last time. "Such a beautiful creature," she whispered before exiting the room.

**X.x.X.x.X**

The Noxian awoke later (how much longer had she slept?) to the various scents of cooked food and noise from the kitchen, prompting her to get up and get dressed in her usual attire save for the actual armour, i.e. the metal shoulder guard and footwear.

Now dressed, Riven inhaled deeply, taking in the various foreign aromas. Whatever Ahri was cooking, it was sure to be delicious.

She headed through the screen doors in front of her, crossing the living room – where the low table was already set and orange seat cushions were in place – to the already opened doorway that revealed a traditional, simple kitchen where the brunette was preparing what seemed to be the last remaining dish.

"Good morning," Ahri said cheerfully. She hadn't even turned around to see the swordswoman, and Riven usually walked noiselessly. But before the pale-haired guest could give it any real thought, the Ionian faced her with a bright smile. "I was just thinking of waking you up!"

Riven nodded. "I see."

The brunette giggled. "I hope you're hungry. You won't be hungry until noon after this."

_´That's a bold statement…´_ "If it tastes as good as it smells then I'll most likely eat my fill. May I ask what you've cooked?"

"Grilled short ribs with bean sprout rice, spicy seafood salad, and a cold cucumber soup," the Ionian replied with a wink. "It's a perfectly balanced meal that'll leave you replete and full of energy for the rest of the day."

"…That's _breakfast_?" The Exile asked, slightly taken aback; normally her breakfast consisted of bread, eggs, and milk - something simple yet just enough to help her through until lunch. The army rations hadn't been much more generous either.

"Well…" Ahri began playfully. "Maybe it's more akin to a brunch. You'll love it though, I can guarantee you that. Please, take a seat in the parlour – I'll be right out!"

Doing as she was told Riven left with a nod and once seated, cross-legged, took this opportunity to look around: the foreroom was spacious – probably the largest room in the hanok – with white walls, screen doors, and decorated with only necessities including wooden furniture, and a single flower standing in a simple glass vase. The flower was a bright pink and red in the centre a contrast to the dark auburn colours of the furniture and the auburn wooden walls.

The sunlight lit up the room through the circular windows – architectural-wise they were both beautiful and unique – and the swordswoman peered out to see a clear, blue sky.

"My Spirit is not lost… I am on the right path," she said to herself, appreciating the tranquil scenery.

But the peace of mind was abruptly interrupted when the raven-haired woman set the few remaining dishes on the table and the warrior found herself, to her own surprise, startled. When had she—?

The pale-haired woman shook her head. The peaceful nature of Ionia had finally begun to affect her, allowing her to space out. Yes, that was it.

"Help yourself, Riven," Ahri stated as she took her seat, gesturing at the various dishes on the table, and it certainly looked good… but…

The ashen-haired warrior began patting herself down, searching, and her hostess shot her a curious stare. "What are you doing?"

"My coin purse," Riven began. "How much do you wish to have for this?"

The black-haired woman arched an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"If you're really serious about letting me stay here, then it's only fair that I pay for the expenses that are included in—"

"No, no, no!" Ahri interrupted. "You don't need to pay me anything. I appreciate that you were willing to, though," she replied, already filling up her bowl with rice and meat. "You just eat your fill and enjoy yourself."

The warrior frowned. "I should at least earn my living-"

"Riven," the hostess cut off, this time sternly. "You don't need to do anything in return. I'm more than happy to be of service. Now, eat up before it gets cold."

That was… nice. Odd, certainly, but nice. A bit suspicious too, to boot, but if this woman was trustworthy then there was one less thing to worry about, and the warrior hadn't detected any ill intent from the dark-haired Ionian as of yet…

Grabbing the chopsticks, the Exile did what she was told and helped herself to the food.

And as the first piece went into her mouth she swore that this was the best meal she had had in a long time. The aroma the Exile picked up hardly did the food any justice.

**X.x.X.x.X**

"Do you have anything in mind for today?"

Riven glanced over at Ahri beside her. After their brunch, the Ionian had decided to open the larger shoji screen doors to reveal the outdoors; the glade was rich with flowers and the forest was a stone's throw from Ahri's dwelling, just a couple of yards away. The gurgle of a stream could be vaguely heard and, by the sound of it, it was just beyond the clearing.

"I have to work. That's about it," the ash-blonde woman replied. Even if her situation had been improved, she still had to answer to the goon, aka her employer, who with no doubt would have her load cargo to and from the warehouse again.

Her hostess frowned and the Exile arched a thin eyebrow in genuine confusion and she asked, "Is there a problem?"

When Ahri didn't say anything, the Exile kept peering, silently waiting.

"It's nothing," she replied, tucking away loose ebon locks. "I suppose it's for the best that you head to work. I would love to talk to you some more before you go though."

"I'll listen," was all Riven said, earning a playful pout from the Ionian before the latter leant back, using her arms for support, and inquired:

"Have you seen beyond the borders of your homeland before you arrived here, Riven?" She paused and seemed to think back. "I should phrase that better. Rather, besides Ionia, where have your feet leaded you?"

Huh. That was new. Last night she had only asked the warrior questions of the more personal sort… And while the question was indeed easy still, the former field-commander found her eyes lingering a moment longer than what they should have on the rather _voluptuous_ shape of Ahri's body, and the way full breasts stood out as the brunette arched.

Riven mentally shrugged those thoughts off. "I have been around," was her short reply.

Ahri nodded, not bothering to press the subject further. "I see. I kind of envy that." She smiled. "As for me, I'm the frog in the well." When she received a slight puzzled gaze from the swordswoman, the Ionian giggled. "A frog in a well does not know the great sea. I don't know the wide world beyond Ionia, but I would love to see what it has to offer."

The self-imposed Exile normally didn't talk much, nor engaged in conversations – and if she did, she kept her answers short and at minimum at best – but something about this dark-haired woman was… inviting.

"What's stopping you?"

Azure orbs lost their usual joyfulness and Ahri's expression became sorrowful. "Who knows?"

It was silent for a moment, the duo simply enjoying the scenery before them… And that was fine.

And yet, something piqued the pale-haired woman's curiosity.

Riven turned to her hostess. "I suppose I could ask you one thing. I don't mind it, but how come you've settled for the simple things, regarding your lodging?"

The Ionian woman laughed airily at that and the warrior immediately regretted giving in to the urge of actually continuing their conversation. "Dumplings rather than flowers, dear." Ahri noticed the stumped stare she received and smiled. "It's an Ionian proverb. It means to prefer simple, practical things over decorative items. Not that I mind the flower I have."

Huh. Well, that was relatable, in a way. The Noxian sword-wielder did have a similar mind-set, now that she thought about it; she preferred useful items, such as dumplings, over aesthetics items such as flowers.

Intriguing. Perhaps there was more to this woman than met the eyes?

As said woman began to ask Riven about anything and everything, the pale-haired mercenary let her mind wander.

**X.x.X.x.X**

The murmurs behind her back as she carried the cargo boxes to the warehouse could still be heard, but Riven merely shrugged them off. She was used to the unpleasantries that people around her whispered – or rather, they didn't bother her to begin with.

And as the Exile went back and forth, carrying box after box, thoughts about Ahri arose. She had barely known the woman for a day and yet the Noxian had learned a lot about her, one of them being that the Ionian was a free-spirited individual with an open mind.

It was like whatever she said or did end up calming those around her— as if people gravitated towards her. Then again, with her lascivious appeal—

The swordswoman came to a halt, catching herself. _"Lascivious?"_ Where did that come from?

Riven cleared her mind, forcing those thoughts away and resumed her toil.

Focus – _Focus is essential._

More whispers from passer-by's and co-workers were heard, but the Noxian paid them no mind. They had every right to be wary of her, but hopefully, in time, she could atone for her past. Maybe then the spiteful looks and words would cease.

**X.x.X.x.X**

Hours later, early afternoon, the Exile had finished her job for the day. Her shoulders were slightly sore from carrying cargo, but nothing out of the ordinary.

As she left her workplace, Riven allowed her mind to wander yet again: she contemplated her situation, the turning point of her life, and what her future could possibly hold. For the first time since leaving Noxus, the pale-haired warrior felt that she was finally starting to find her true path – a light at the end of a long and dark tunnel – and with renewed hope, she would follow that path until she had found redemption.

She was so close… she couldn't, nor wouldn't, give up now. The swordswoman was a ruthless and efficient warrior, but her true strength lied in her conviction – she never had any doubts.

_Leave doubt behind._

That strength wouldn't waver now. If anything it had been tempered, like one would temper steel, and her resolve was strengthened.

"So long I've wandered…"

Riven closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled.

Things were starting to look… _brighter_, in a way.

Heading home, the swordswoman left through the eastern streets as per usual, when she noticed the lack of people around. Normally there were at least a handful of Ionians around the docks, but now it too quiet – too empty.

Riven duly noted that fact in the back of her mind and, when dark brown orbs spotted something lying on the street, she kneeled down to inspect it curiously.

Her brow furrowed. _´Why's there a purse just lying around here?´_

The tattered, brown leather bag fit in the palm of her hand and, upon opening it, the Noxian's eyes widened. The gold inside looked to be maybe twice the amount of her pay – which wasn't too much – but it was notable nonetheless.

Riven looked around for anyone – someone who could possibly be the owner of this hefty sum – but none were around.

She let out a weary sigh. She couldn't very well just start asking around town if someone had happened to drop their purse around the harbour. Chances were that someone would claim to be the owner and the money would still end up in the wrong hands.

_´I shouldn't dwell on this any longer.´_

With an added bonus, the Noxian continued on her way. The day was far from over, but usually she would have to think about food, and paying the innkeeper for yet another night.

_´I should use the time wisely and train.´_

Yes. Training sounded like a good idea. Keep her skills sharp and her senses alert.

And speaking of senses: where had they gone to? Riven grunted as her knee suddenly hit the edge of the stone stairs she was ascended (as some parts of the capital city were on a higher level) and toppled forward, catching herself on the ground.

The few passers-by's present laughed softly but the swordswoman ignored them. It was her now-bruised left knee that received her attention, and the white-haired woman grimaced.

Such things never happened - not to the warrior. She was always in control, always aware of her surroundings.

_´This is unlike me…´_

A certain raven-haired woman came to mind and the former field-commander tensed a bit. If there was a connection between meeting her and these weird happenings, then the sword-wielder couldn't trust her.

_Always be vigilant. _If you weren't, the consequences could be dire.

Dark-brown orbs widened as dark memories came rushing back: a large field, its soil damp with crimson waters, and a weeping girl emerging from the fog.

Mentally chastising herself and quickly shoving her thoughts away, Riven got back up and headed for Ahri's hanok through the southern streets despite the stinging pain in her leg.

**X.x.X.x.X**

Having reached the secluded meadow, the Noxian mercenary strode along the narrowed cobblestone path and gently pushed open the thin wooden doors. Dark-brown eyes met azure ones as the buxom Ionian came right into view – as if she had waited for the pale-haired woman – and greeted the Exile with a hearty, "Welcome back!"

Riven nodded. "Pardon the intrusion…" she replied as she took off her footwear, (having been mildly reprimanded last night that footwear was to always be taken off before entering someone's house) but her hostess audibly dismissed it.

"No, silly! Consider this your home now." Her lips curved into a smile. "You're definitely not intruding. Welcome home."

Home. Something about the implication of the word and the way Ahri had said it stirred up mixed emotions within the swordswoman, who decided not to reply. Instead, she marched past the raven-haired woman-

"What happened to your leg?"

The Noxian halted. She glanced down at the bruise on her knee and shrugged, noting the concern in Ahri's voice. "Nothing serious."

She managed to take one step before the weight of the Ionian's hand settled on her right shoulder – it was warm to the touch, despite the fact that there was no skin-on-skin contact – and azure orbs peered into dark-brown ones again. "Let me have a look at it."

Why was the light in the dark-haired woman's eyes so perturbed? Her body-language displayed anxiety and it affected the Exile a little too much to her liking.

"Fine," Riven reluctantly agreed, unable to resist the pleading look in azure orbs. Pushing that thought away for later contemplating, she frowned ever so slightly as she headed to the parlour and settled on the seat-cushion and straightened out her bruised leg.

"Thank you," Ahri replied with an apologetic smile as she sat down in a kneeling position. In her lap was a tiny wooden chest (which she had presumably gone to get while her guest had taken her seat) with a peculiar design that the Noxian hadn't seen before. The Ionian opened it up, revealing a small array of medicinal tools and bottles.

The hostess picked up a tiny glass bottle, its content a russet colour, and uncorked it and poured a little of it into her open palm before setting the bottle aside and rubbing the fluid together in her hands.

"What is that?" Riven inquired, and Ahri smiled.

"It's snake oil. It's great for headache, fever, and joint pain, and it's perfectly fine for consumption, if needed."

The Exile arched an eyebrow at that. "Isn't that a fake medicine that fraud merchants sell? A false ´cure-it-all.´"

"Only when they use the wrong kind of snake," Ahri replied disdainfully. "This is from a common water snake – the same kind they make the wine out of." She touched the swordswoman's leg and the latter quivered from the sudden cold slimy touch. "Relax."

Right – relax. Riven found herself unable to do so for some reason as talented hands gently caressed pale skin and bruise mark alike. Slender fingertips made little circles on the bruised area, carefully as to not scratch the flesh with blue nails, and the warrior couldn't stifle a brief sigh of contentedness that arose from her throat.

"Well?" the raven-haired woman asked as she massaged her guest's toned, pale leg. "How do you feel?"

"Better…"

"Does it still sting?"

The Noxian Exile gently shook her head and allowed herself to steal a glance at the raven-haired woman: her face was content, serene – as if she was truly enjoying what she was currently doing.

"Barely."

Ahri simpered. "I won't stop until it's fully healed."

A pleasant shiver travelled through the swordswoman's body. Her tension gradually seeped away the longer the Ionian tended to her leg and it felt _so_ good to have her leg massaged. This woman had magic fingers – fingers that perhaps didn't solely mend the bruise and instead friskily wandered higher and higher, delicately caressing her loin…

Riven's eyes snapped open – when has she closed them? – as a little red warning-flag went off inside her head.

"You're straying from your mark," she said – perhaps a bit more sharply than she had meant to – and azure eyes looked up at the warrior-woman, aghast and widened. The sight actually _pained _the Noxian, and part of her wanted to immediately take back every word.

The Ionian's hands quickly withdrew and settled on her lap as she smiled apologetically with a low: "I humbly apologize. My intention was to help you relax completely, but I overstepped my boundaries." Ahri got back up on her feet, avoiding Riven's gazing eyes. "Your bruise should be gone overnight. Excuse me."

As her hostess left the room, a slight pang of guilt struck Riven – much to her confusion – and she stared down at her leg; the warmth still lingered on taut skin and the bruised area was barely visible.

The warrior sighed.

_´Why does it bother me?´_

**X.x.X.x.X**

The hours had went by as the swordswoman trained outside. The sky was covered in a twilight veil as the early evening arrived and Riven, done with her workout, sat down on the small porch that was just a screen-door away from the foreroom. She wiped her brow, her body glistening with sweat in the evening light as her blood pumped loudly in her ears.

As she calmed down, her memory jogged into motion and Ahri's expression from before flashed in her mind.

The Exile let out a weary sigh, her own expression a mix between frustration and somber. Why wouldn't that thought go away?

"That was an impressive display."

The pale-haired woman immediately turned around. When had Ahri even entered the room? Just how stealthy was this woman? It was as if she was an animal, slowly approaching her prey. Not a very welcoming thought.

"Thank you."

Ahri offered a kind smile and the Noxian was immediately at ease. The guilt that had lingered over her like a cloud was gone and she duly noted that change for further consideration.

"Say," the Ionian clasped her hands together. "If you're done, would you like to join me for some wine?"

Well, she was kind of thirsty…

Riven nodded. "Very well."

Ahri beamed with delight and her smile widened. "Wonderful! Would you prefer it steeped or mixed?"

The warrior blinked. "What's the difference?"

"Steeped snake-wine is when you place you let a snake steep in ordinary rice wine for many months, usually with medicinal herbs, while mixed is when you mix the snake's body fluids into the wine and drink it immediately. You had the steeped one the first time," the brunette replied.

"I'll have it steeped, then," Riven answered without hesitation. Nodding, her hostess left.

Having this one moment for herself, the sword-wielder contemplated, furrowing her brow: what had the sense of relief meant when she saw Ahri in a better mood just now?

Since when did she care?

There was more to this woman than meets the eye – for the better or worse. She didn't look like a warrior of any kind, and yet she could sneak up on Riven, who had years of training and honing her senses, undetected.

The Noxian would have to keep her guard up. One wrong move and—

"Here you go." The sweet, soothing voice startled her as Ahri set down her cup and a small wood bottle on the veranda before taking her seat in her unusual kneeling position. Blue orbs peered at her and pink lips parted with a smile. "Cheers."

Riven picked up her small cup and held it out, gently tapping it against Ahri's before imbibing the amber liquid. It was cool on her tongue, a refreshing sensation after being worked up and warm. The rich taste invigorated the warrior, and the medicinal aftertaste was no longer a concern – in fact, she had come to enjoy it, to an extent.

The snake-wine went down smoothly and a refill was in order, which apparently the Ionian had picked up as she was right next to the warrior, holding the bottle. With a nod from the pale-haired woman, her cup was refilled.

"If you care to elaborate," Ahri began as she poured herself a refill. "You mentioned earlier that you've _´been around´_."

"I have," the sword-wielder stated, sipping on the wine.

"If you don't mind me asking, where has your path taken you?"

Riven went silent, dark-brown orbs gazing at the sky. "…There was a place called Freljord I visited, once."

Her hostess turned to her, still in her kneeling position, almond-shaped eyes amiable and filled with mirth. "Freljord… That's an interesting name. What was it like?"

Another pause. "It's located to the north, once you cross the sea. As such, it's a winter land."

"Winter…" Ahri murmured in awe as her eyes lit up. "It sounds wonderful. I adore winter."

A thin eyebrow arched as the Noxian cast a curious glance at the brunette. Again, there was something about Ahri that was inviting Riven to ask her… to talk to her. "Why is that?"

The soft, chiming giggle that left those full lips could spellbind almost anyone.

"I've come to enjoy that time of the year lately. I've got some fond memories regarding that season," the Ionian replied, smiling as she took a gentle swig of her cup. "As such, winter has become my favourite season." She paused and stared absentmindedly. "As for Freljord, I would like to go there myself someday… But at the same time, I don't."

'_Huh?'_

"Why is that?" Riven inquired.

"Not seeing is a flower," came the reply, and the Exile stared even more curiously at the dark-haired woman, who merely giggled softly into the back of her hand. "It's an Ionian proverb. _Reality can't compete with Imagination._"

_´Reality can't compete with imagination?´_

The warrior-woman shrugged, gulping down the last of her drink. As soon as the cup left her lips, her hostess was once again at her side, offering to pour her some more without saying a word. The amber beverage gave of a faint sparkle in the twilight, reflecting the crimson sky on its surface as Riven stared at it, her mind occupied with thoughts.

"So why do you travel, Riven?"

She didn't even look up at Ahri. "…Soul-searching, I suppose."

"You weren't joking when you said you were not much of a talker," the raven-haired female remarked with a chuckle. "Then again, silence is golden." There was a pause and the Ionian tilted her head to the side, seemingly pondering. "I'll change my question. For what purpose do you soul-search, then?"

Riven said nothing, instead sipped the snake-wine.

"Very well. I won't press the subject any further," Ahri stated. "Instead, tell me about your hobbies."

"Don't have any," came the monotone reply and from the corner of her eye the Exile could see the Ionian _pout_ – and a part of her, no matter how small, found it to be… well, cute.

"How long have you been in Ionia then?"

Now this was a question the Exile was more inclined to answer. "Couple of months – four, five maybe."

"So you arrived here last winter."

Dark-brown orbs darted over to clear azure ones as the warrior nodded.

"As I thought," Ahri replied with a confident smile and chuckled softly at the look Riven gave her. "Lucky guess, really."

The pale-haired woman's gaze lingered, but she remained quiet, never looking away even as she sipped on her snake-wine.

A soft giggle. "Is there something on my face, or are you silently complimenting my looks?"

The Exile caught herself and averted her eyes, ignoring Ahri's girlish laughter with an audible _´hmph´_.

_´Strange woman…´_

"I do apologize," she heard the dark-haired female say. "I couldn't resist. It was just a joke. May I tempt you with a refill?"

The swordswoman sighed. "I humbly accept," she replied in a monotone voice, only to find that her hostess's cleavage was in full view as said woman leant closer to pour wine. She could smell Ahri's scent of flowers and something else that Riven couldn't identify.

The close proximity however – especially that of a voluptuous and slender form like Ahri's – the Exile's muscles tensed and her heart-rate suddenly spiking as milky white, fleshy globes came into the warrior's field of vision. Riven: a warrior of strength in both body and mind, who was more of a lone wolf than a socializer, was now having her private space severely intruded.

"There you go." The voice was as sweet and smooth. The Noxian looked down to the cup to find it full and her hostess had backed away, her expression innocently content as she guided her cup to her lips, happily sipping without a care in the world.

Dark-brown orbs narrowed but the Exile said nothing. Her heart was racing beneath her breast, and it wouldn't settle down. She was starting to doubt the sincerity of Ahri's reaction earlier – the raven-haired woman certainly didn't seem upset, or appeared to have any qualms about overstepping those boundaries again.

Was this woman toying with her?

"Is something troubling you?"

Both yes and no, really. "Nothing serious," Riven replied. The look in the Ionian's eyes clearly said she wasn't buying it, but she didn't press the subject.

"If there ever is, then you can tell me," Ahri then stated, taking one last swig of her cup before getting up on her feet. "I should get dinner ready. I'll leave the bottle, so feel free to help yourself." The hostess smiled at her guest and headed for the kitchen and the warrior couldn't help but notice the alluring sway of the Ionian's hips until said woman turned sharply around at the door way. "If you don't mind, I have to ask you one last thing." When Riven didn't reply, she continued. "When you arrived here, did you ever pass through the southern woods?"

_´Oddly specific…´_

"The harbour-town I arrived in was in southern Ionia, if that's what you mean. I didn't have enough gold for food or a room, so I had to hunt for game in the forest."

Pink lips curved into a wide smile but Ahri didn't say anything – instead she nodded, as if she'd confirmed something to herself, and sauntered out of the room, giving Riven one last chance to glance at her shapely rear.

The swordswoman caught herself. There was no denying that this woman had great looks – the Exile was a woman enough to admit that, hands down – but the sheer aura of allure Ahri had was... well, _attracting_ her.

A weary sigh escaped the Exile's throat. This was becoming troublesome and, if anything, weird.

She would have to go to bed earlier tonight.

**X.x.X.x.X**

_/Everything was quiet – everything save the eerie wind that blew, carrying the fetid smell of death and a thick, choking mist. The ground was damp and reddened with blood and the Noxian warrior's stomach turned. The smell of decay was burning her nostrils._

_A sound caught her attention – footsteps. It was a slow, uneven pace, but the sound grew louder until a faint silhouette appeared behind the misty veil, revealing bare feet covered with the sickening ground._

_Riven's eyes widened as dark-brown met innocent emerald – orbs that belonged to a nameless figure, clothed in what had once been verdant Ionian garb, now matted with blood and mud, and torn._

"_No… please…" the figure – a young woman, broken and soulless – whimpered. "No…No… Please, no more…"_

_She was weeping blood. Those eyes were hollow, the result of one who had seen the nightmare of war and death._

_The pale-haired swordswoman was speechless, her pulse spiking. The sight before her made her heart writhe in pain, and for some unknown reason, she wanted to help – wanted to do anything but just stare at the poor woman._

_Emerald orbs suddenly glared at her, filled with hateful resolve, as the mangled woman lunged at her with a shriek. /_

Cold-sweating and temporarily disoriented Riven jolted up into a sitting position and gasped for breath as her heart threatened to explode.

Dazzling moonlight poured through the window, vaguely revealing a familiar environment: she was back in Ahri's dwelling.

No – she hadn't left in the first place.

_`Another nightmare…´_

Focus.

The exiled woman took one deep breath after another, refocusing.

Was she on the right path? Yes. But she still had some way left to go… demons never slept.

In her panicked state of mind, Riven didn't notice the slight gap between shoji-screen doors, or the single blue eye that peer worriedly at her from the shadows.

* * *

_To be continued. Reviews are most appreciated! :3_


	4. Chapter 3 - Ahri's Mark

Disclaimer: League of Legends belongs to Riot Games. GrimGrave does not own any of the characters or make money out of writing fiction.

_Thanks to Supreme Distraction for beta-reading this! :D_

_**The Fox Woman of Ionia**_

_**Chapter 3**_

_Ahri's Mark_

The following days had been…_intriguing_ for the silver-haired woman. It still surprised her how she had grown accustomed to Ionian life—at least to a certain extent.

Living with Ahri had proved to be rather thought-provoking, yet entertaining in a strange way; they would talk about anything that her raven-haired hostess could possibly bring up, and her curiosity seemed endless, her unanswered questions piling up. Ahri knew well enough to not push things too far and at times Riven felt inclined to answer.

But then, some questions weren't meant to be answered.

Riven had grown used to having more peaceful nights as well, the nightmares that hounded her each night now visiting less frequently. And while that was a weight off her shoulders, the nights when her demons did come back served as a painful reminder of the Exile's past – the atrocities she had committed.

But what was particularly odd was how soothing the brunette's presence was – it was something the swordswoman had little by little picked up over time – and how at the same time, the Ionian would trigger a sense of alarm and…_interest _– yes, interest.

What was it about this cheerful and friendly woman that piqued the Noxian's curiosity so much? What's more, what was it about this cheerful and friendly woman that triggered that gnawing feeling of alarm at the back of her mind?

Ahri's questions were personal and topics peculiar, and Riven still didn't fully trust her. There was something about the Ionian – something she wasn't telling.

There was more to the Ionian than she was letting on.

**X.x.X.x.X**

"Welcome home!" the Ionian exclaimed, beaming. It was still strange to hear her say that – even more so to imagine her house as an actual, permanent place to call "home" – but the swordswoman nevertheless nodded curtly as she took off her footwear.

"Hello…" was the reply. The Noxian stepped back when the dark-haired woman was suddenly right in front of her, smiling widely.

"How was your day?" Ahri asked. "You know, the weather is still holding up nicely – how about you and I relax on the veranda, hmm? You look like you could use some loosening up!" She was already tugging on her guest's gauntlet-clad hand. "What do you say?"

Riven broke her composure for a split second, her expression taken-aback, before returning to her customary frown. "Do I have a choice in the matter?"

She smirked, a blue eye winking as she replied, "I'm afraid not."

Rolling her eyes, the swordswoman allowed herself to be pulled along until they were on the veranda where there was, strangely enough, a familiar bottle and two cups, and a tray with rice cakes already set.

Riven arched an eyebrow. "You weren't going to take ´no´ for an answer."

"Absolutely not," her hostess exclaimed. "Now, rest your bones for a spell and relax. You've had a long day of hard work."

"Hardly something I'm not used to." The mercenary sat down nevertheless, her greatsword resting against the wall as she leaned back against a wooden pillar with a rice cake in hand. She took a bite out of it. "But I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

"I'm very happy to hear that," Ahri commented, her tone noticeably delighted. "I've been meaning to ask you: how goes your soul-searching?"

The hostess poured them both some snake-wine and with a faint _´clink´_ of their cups, the Noxian took a swig of the beverage. She was enjoying the taste the more she drank of the wine and it was an odd but pleasant contrast to the rice cakes. Riven took another bite and washed it down with the wine.

"…I'm making progress," she began. "Being here in Ionia is leading me in the right direction."

"Good." The raven-haired Ionian smiled warmly at Riven, the latter noting how she scooted closer. "Out of interest, do you meditate?"

A nod.

"Have you tried meditating underneath the cherry-blossom trees?"

The swordswoman sipped her wine. "I can't say I have. I don't see what's special about it either."

"You'll feel a lot better if you do, and your mind will be clearer – at least, it does so for me. You should try it, Riven," Ahri replied, pouring her guest some more snake-blood wine. "After all, enlightenment only comes to those who spend time thinking – pondering everything that comes to mind. That's how you learn about yourself and, in turn, realizes new things; see life and, more importantly, yourself, in a new perspective."

Hazel orbs peered at the other woman, her mind reeling. _´New perspective and learning about yourself…´_

If there was one thing Riven had come to understand about her hostess, it was that she had her fair share of life-experience. And the warrior would be a fool to not take advantage of that during her stay in Ionia.

She smiled – brief and barely noticeable – at the other woman. "Thank you, Ahri. I'll keep that in mind." She sipped some more of her beverage, already musing as she spotted a lone cherry blossom tree amidst the others in the brunette's yard when she noticed said woman peering at her from the corner of her eye: blue orbs were wide and the dark-haired woman's lips were ajar as she sat completely still.

It made the Noxian uneasy. "…What is it?"

Full lips curved into a warm smile. "Has anyone ever told you that you're beautiful when you smile?"

The Exile's face was unreadable. "…Do not get used to it."

"You're shy," Ahri said teasingly, but the swordswoman remained impassive. "Oh well. I better get dinner started. I take it that you're going to train until then?"

The pale-haired woman nodded and her hostess got up with a giggle, the motion causing her (impressive) chest to jiggle.

Riven looked away.

"I will leave the bottle here, should you feel thirsty again," the brunette said. "Just don't fill yourself up on rice cakes!"

As she left, the Exile had – to her own surprise – to fight off the urge to look up and get a glimpse of Ahri's kimono, which ended just below her rear.

Perhaps she stared a moment longer than she had meant to.

**X.x.X.x.X**

The warrior duelled with thoughts – unpleasant, unfamiliar, and disturbing thoughts. She swung her iconic greatsword around, cutting imaginary foes; Riven had worked tirelessly and forced herself to master the weight of her weapon, and ever since then she had never skipped a day without training to keep her strength up. Training also allowed her to either not think about anything at all or to dwell on matters as she swung her blade around as though it was second nature.

The Exile mulled over the Ionian inside. If there was one _other_ thing the mercenary had come to understand – or rather, tried to – it was that Ahri was a woman shrouded in enigma. Not a single day had gone by without her thoughts returning to the black-haired woman.

More importantly, Riven had caught herself a few times staring perhaps a bit longer than necessary at her. Granted, Ahri had good looks – of that there was no denying – but the way the Ionian occupied her thoughts had the warrior frustrated.

There was something about her – something she was hiding and wouldn't reveal. And while the Exile knew better than anyone that some things weren't meant to be shared, the mystery that was Ahri had her yearning for more.

This _interest_ in her needed to be sated.

She grunted as she twirled the blade in her hand before cutting in a wide arc. It was as natural as breathing air to feel the weight of her greatsword and use it like an extension of her arm to precisely cut and cleave where she wanted.

And usually it would help clear the mercenary's mind, but now it was… nothing. The more she dwelled on thoughts of Ahri, the less she understood. Despite the brunette's inability to keep her mouth shut, Riven knew next to nothing about her besides her name and demeanour –not that she herself had shared everything –but Ahri knew more about the warrior than she knew about the Ionian.

What confused her even more was the Ionian's change of behaviour. When the Noxian had told her off, the brunette had seemed sincere when she had apologized for "overstepping her boundaries," but would just as quickly risk overstepping them again.

Another grunt, muscles tensing and eyes narrowing. The swordswoman stood still, her blade held in front of her for a moment that seemed to last a lifetime before she hefted it above her head and, with a war-cry, slashed downwards into the ground.

Riven's breathing was heavy and droplets of sweat ran down her brow, glistening in the evening sun that painted the sky with crimson. Wiping her brow, she suddenly perceived her hostess watching her from the veranda, leaning against the support column.

_´When did she get here? I didn't feel her presence at all…´_ the Exile wondered, sheathing her sword on her back as she made her way to the Ionian, accidentally getting a glimpse underneath the woman's kimono due to the way she was sitting, but quickly met her eyes again – eyes that stared sultrily at the warrior.

A slight shiver ran up her spine.

"I didn't want to disturb you," Ahri said with a smile as if she knew what Riven was thinking, crossing her legs as her smile became sly. "I enjoyed watching your display…"

"Did you need anything?" the Noxian asked, ignoring the brunette's comment.

The latter pouted playfully. "No, I was merely taking a break from cooking and found a more enjoyable way to pass the time."

The guest rolled her eyes at that. A trickle of sweat ran down her temple and she wiped it off, noting how warm it still was.

Hazel eyes glanced over to the forest. "Ahri, you mentioned there was a river nearby, right?"

Her hostess seemed to perk up at that and smiled slyly. "Yes, just a stone's throw away, past the trees. Do you need to take a bath? I've been meaning to tell you, you're actually somewhat… stinky," she said, her smile now apologetic.

Riven raised her gauntlet and took a whiff. As a wanderer, she didn't bathe regularly, much less wash her clothes, and it had reached the point where she had forgotten – or rather, gotten used to – the smell.

"I'm due for a proper washing, as are my clothes," the Exile admitted. "I will go and get cleaned up—"

"If you're unsure of where the river is, I'd be glad to accompany you," the raven-haired woman interrupted.

Riven's face was unreadable. "…I can hear it from here. I'll find it."

The more Ahri pouted, the more the warrior thought of it as… cute. "Very well. However, I'll swing by later with new clothes for you – you can't very well wear your current garb until it's been properly washed."

Wearing clothes similar to the Ionian's? The thought seemed ridiculous as there was no way the hostess had clothes that could possibly fit the taller, more muscular woman but what choice did she have?

Reluctant, she agreed.

**X.x.X.x.X**

The river was just beyond a few trees; one could still see Ahri's house just beyond the trees. The waters were crystal clear and cold, but she'd get used to it. Riven undressed and took a moment to eye herself over, silently admiring her physique: her tan body was lithe, her stomach contoured with just-noticeable abs, a pair of slim thighs, and arms that, while slender, showed strength that came from years of dedication and hard work.

She was proud of her strength – proud of her body.

Tossing the last piece of Noxian cloth – tarnished remnants of armour that spoke of years of absence from duty – into the pile next to the towel she had been given, the warrior undid her hair and stepped into the stream, muscles tensing at the chilling embrace. It only reached up to her hips, but she kneeled, scooping up the water over broad shoulders and down her back.

It felt nice to have sweat and grime washed away, along with any troubling thoughts. But Riven's thoughts wandered back to the Ionian.

She shook her head. She could think about the enigmatic woman later, even if she most likely wouldn't find a satisfactory answer to her questions regarding the Ionian. The pale-haired woman forced her hostess out of her mind and instead contemplated her situation.

This path – the path she had chosen the second she had left Noxus behind her – was the road towards freedom. While she was already free, she still felt shackled to her nation and to her past – a past that haunted her with zeal. Her involvement in unspeakable atrocities had led her to the open road to gain freedom by atonement and perhaps finally be free of her demons.

And for that atonement, Riven was willing to do anything within her power.

The Exile took a deep breath and dove into the waters, soaking herself completely before resurfacing. She ran a hand through her wet, white tangle of hair with a sigh.

Someone once wrote:_ "There is a place between war and murder in which our demons lurk."_ She was inclined to agree.

_There was nothing quite so cutting as the recollection of a guilty mind._

A shudder. And the tan woman didn't know if it was solely because of the water.

_/Even now, she could remember the gagging stench that permeated the Ionian soil, field after field stained red and littered with lives long lost. Hours of marching through muck and nauseating fog had made her stop counting the numerous scenes of death from the Zaunite aftermath._

_The messy valleys – valleys that had with no doubt been green and filled with life – that were now mere shadows of their former selves. Decay, destruction, and death were the only permanent residents in these parts. It made the swordswoman sick to her stomach._

_And yet, there had been only one thing to do: march. Marching through the harrowing trail and catch up with the rest of the 42__nd__ Standard and put an end to this. What "this" meant was unknown to Riven, but she had believed in what she thought was the pure Noxian vision._

_She had been wrong./_

Riven scrubbed herself in every nook and cranny as she let her mind continue to wander until it settled on a common subject she often thought about: her dream. She had started anew and found herself back in Ionia – the first part was done. The second part was to find atonement for her past and finally be free to live a life where she served a new purpose.

The swordswoman could do it. She knew she could. The path was long but the end was almost in sight, especially with Ionia's capital not being far from here. There lives a Duchess – a woman called "the Enlightened One", with an unbound and indomitable will.

_Karma_. That was the name Riven had heard people call her.

Someday, somehow, she'd gain an audience with that woman. The Duchess would help… hopefully. If her title was of any indication, then she'd certainly know how to further guide Riven—

The warrior was so lost in thought that she barely noticed the presence of another and, in quick succession, picked up a small rock and threw it in the direction she had sensed it right into the bushes.

There was a rustling sound and the presence was gone.

The mercenary narrowed her eyes. _´What was that just now…? An animal?´_

She sighed. Whatever it was, it was gone now, but the thought of it being an animal didn't seem right. It was as if the creature had intentionally stared at her, hidden as if to spy on her.

Nonsense. It had to have been a random critter that had just happened to stumble upon the swordswoman. No one else lived around here.

Looking up, she saw the sky had lost its crimson veil and was turning darker, prompting the Exile to get up and dry herself off. Noting that her hostess had yet to appear with new clothes, she was considering putting on her old garb when the aforementioned brunette suddenly came into view and wrapped the towel around herself.

"Enjoying the bath?" Ahri asked chirpily. Her smile, however, dropped when she noticed her now frowning guest. "No need to cover yourself up, dear. There's no one else around."

"There is you, for starters," Riven replied, even though she was somewhat surprised at how… _Self-conscious _the Ionian seemed to make her these days. It didn't suit her well.

Nevertheless, she accepted the clothes, ranging from footwear to outfit (including a pair of white cotton panties sitting neatly on top) and she peered at them before gazing over at Ahri who had seated herself on a rock.

"Oh, don't mind me. We're both women, no?" she said to the Exile. She was smiling sultrily at the pale-haired woman as she rested her chin on her palms, supporting herself on her thighs. "Go on. I'm sure they'll fit."

"Shouldn't you be concerned with dinner?" What was it about the woman's gaze – the look in azure orbs that seemed to undress Riven right on the spot – that made her body grow warmer? Even if she had meant to sound reprimanding, being stared at like that by this woman seemed to lessen her irritation.

"It's alright for the time being. I can spare a few minutes," came the gleeful reply as the raven-haired hostess kept watching. "And you're going to catch a cold at this rate."

"Then stop staring like an idiot," Riven retorted "It's not something you haven't seen before."

"I beg to differ…" The way she replied it was so… sensual, coated with a coquettish undertone that it almost had the mercenary taken aback.

With no other choice, the tan woman let the towel fall to the ground as she turned around. It irked her how she was being ogled like this, but at the same time there was a small sense of pride in being able to show of the fruits of her labour. In the back of her mind, Riven couldn't help but wonder what kind of body was hidden beneath her hostess' clothes – how different it had to be from hers.

The garb Ahri had given her was definitely not to Riven's tastes, though. The footwear consisted of white socks that reached almost up to the knee and shoes that were unlike her usual, Noxian footwear. The rest of the garb was a modernized hanbok with long sleeves and a sash of white and pinkish-red colours that ended just below her hips.

In a few minutes, the Noxian swordswoman had managed to put it on with the help of a spaced out Ahri. The Exile looked down at the clothes she was wearing, and frowned. This was the complete opposite of what she usually wore – these were colourful, soft, and fit for a _woman_, not a battle-born fighter like herself.

"My, my…" the brunette commented. "A perfect fit. It suits you so well, too! You should consider wearing this a lot more often." The look on her face was serene and azure eyes didn't even seem to blink as she gawked. "And you should let your hair down a bit more often, too. It suits you."

"…" The warrior couldn't reply to that. While she appreciated the compliments, they were embarrassing nevertheless. She bent down and picked up pieces of her Noxian outfit that Ahri wasn't already carrying and followed the woman back to the house, her mind reeling.

Her interest was far from quenched – she was only growing thirstier.

**X.x.X.x.X**

The aroma that filled the household made Riven's mouth water. She had been introduced to a variety of different Ionian dishes during her stay, but each one was different from the last.

Tonight it was thinly sliced beef – marinated in garlic, sugar, sesame oil, black pepper, green onions, and soy sauce – that had been grilled together with seasoned vegetables, and noodles. Ahri was a great cook – that was for certain.

"So, how was your day? You didn't answer me earlier," the raven-haired woman inquired. She was eating with gusto. "Are you getting treated properly?"

"As good as it can get, I guess." The Exile helped herself to beef, vegetables, and noodles in one go, relishing the explosion of flavours in her mouth. Compared to Noxian cuisine, this was food fit for gods! "And today went well."

The Ionian smiled. "Good to hear." They sat in silence for a moment until Ahri spoke up again: "Tell me about your journeys, dear. Especially this "Freljord," I would love to know more about it."

The pale-haired woman swallowed. "There's not much to tell," Riven replied frankly. "Unless you enjoy winter, you're going to have a tough time there. I can't say that I only have bad experiences from that land, though." She stuffed another helping of food into her mouth, slightly amused that her hostess waited impatiently (if her fingers tapping on the table was of any indication) for her to swallow it down and continue. After all, the Exile didn't talk much, and rarely this openly – something Riven herself had been surprised to notice – but over time, she had grown used to the brunette's frequent inquires. "I visited the capital called Rakelstake," she continued. "And I journeyed around Freljord shortly after. I did meet a few people."

Ahri leant slightly over the table. "…And?"

"That's it." Riven chewed on the marinated beef and vegetables and the Ionian sighed.

"Perhaps another time," she answered back, and continued to eat. It seemed that Ahri was content for the moment and would not try and further push her guest for answers (which Riven was grateful for) as they sat in silence, enjoying their meal and occasionally trading glances; the brunette's gazes ranged from friendly and warm to flirty and…

_Wanton._ And the smile she flashed was far from just friendly. The tip of a tongue flicked out and wetted full lips, however slightly, and the Exile looked away at an instant, ignoring the fact that her body seemed warmer than before.

It shouldn't have been such a shock when something suddenly touched the mercenary's foot underneath the table, but the warrior immediately looked underneath either way. "What are you doing?"

"Punishing you," Ahri replied. A foot was touching Riven's, toes wiggling against hers. "For not telling me everything. And because I feel like it." She giggled, her laugh clear as the chiming of bells.

The former Noxian shot her a stony gaze. "Stop it."

To her bewilderment, her hostess didn't back down and instead kept rubbing her foot against hers, smirking. "Why? Lighten up a bit, Riven."

With a frown, the swordswoman withdrew her foot, only for the brunette to reach out further and continue. The table they ate on was smaller than the usual one the girls having moved to eat near the veranda instead) so there was no effort needed.

"Come on… Cheer up. I bet you're actually ticklish…"

What was it with this woman? Riven just couldn't understand her at all…

"Enough of this…" The Exile stood, having finished most of her meal. "Thank you for the meal—"

"Wait, please!" The Ionian got up as well and grabbed her guest by the arm, her look pleading. "Forgive me – I was teasing you, but I guess I took it too far. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable… Let me make it up to you." Azure orbs lit up with glee as full lips curved neatly upwards. "You must still be a bit stiff from your training earlier, yes? Let me massage you."

A little red flag went off at the back of Riven's head. "I decline your offer."

Ahri's pouted at her. "Why?"

"You'll stray from your mark again."

"I promise I won't," was the reply. "Don't you trust me?"

Hazel met azure. The Exile didn't know how long they spent in silence, simply staring into each other's eyes and who knew what was going on inside the Ionian's head. In Riven's case, she thought things over – pondering the sincerity of those chosen words. She remembered Ahri rubbing her bruise and the tingling pleasure that had almost distracted her from noticing her hostess' talented hands wandering further up her leg…

It had felt good…And a part of the swordswoman was actually looking forward to that sensation again.

She sighed heavily. "…Very well."

Ahri beamed at the warrior. "Then please, sit down."

The pale-haired woman did as told as the brunette moved behind her, undoing the sash—

"What are you doing?" The light in hazel eyes was unamused, but the Ionian giggled.

—and let it fall gently down, pooling around Riven's elbows and exposing a broad, tan back.

"It was in the way – I can't massage you properly with clothes on." Her tone was frisky. As slender hands immediately got to work on stiff shoulders, the mercenary realized she had neglected to put on her breast bindings after the bath.

She was bare from the waist up for the second time this day, even if she had her back to the raven-haired woman both times. Riven didn't enjoy that thought, but her troubles seemed to melt at the firm touch that loosened up her knots.

She had to supress a moan, shuddering instead. Heavens above, this woman knew what she was doing!

_´So good…´_

"While it's good that you're keeping yourself fit and healthy," Ahri softly whispered. "Don't neglect relaxation. You're so tense…"

Talented fingers gently brushed past white tresses, applying pressure around the base of her neck and down her shoulders.

"Mm…"

This was nice. It felt as if a lifetime of tension was washed away, and Riven had to fight the rising urge to lean back against the other woman, whose hands truly worked their magic as they drew little circles on her upper back, again being careful not to scratch with her nails. A pleasurable little jolt zipped along the Exile's back and along her sides, her body hot and almost quivering.

"Such a shame that you were hiding this underneath that tattered armour all this time…"

Her words barely registered in the white-haired woman's mind until the pleasurable receptivity spread to her –

Brown orbs opened up and stared down at her chest: pale, slender hands were softly caressing malleable flesh and fingers brushed gently over erect little buds.

And for a moment – a moment that felt like hours of silent appreciation for her delightful lingering touch – the Noxian closed her eyes again, her body hotter and her breathing heavy.

"At least the tension is gone…" Ahri's tone was low – like a whisper – and her breath brushed hotly against Riven's ear. "But perhaps there's a different tension that needs to be taken care of…"

The Exile's eyes shot wide open at the implication and she sat up straight (when had she hunched over…?) and shook Ahri off of her, the motion somewhere between forceful and gentle. She quickly got re-dressed and rose up to her feet, shooting an impassive glance at her hostess.

"You broke your promise." Her voice was not raised in anger, but it was far from friendly.

The raven-haired woman looked up with apologetic eyes. Her lips were parted as if to speak, but no words came. Her gaze wandered to the floor, then back up at the warrior.

"My apologies… I overstepped my boundaries again. But I just couldn't help it—"

"I need to go for a walk," Riven interrupted. "Alone."

"…Very well, dear. Don't wander too far off now," was the last thing Riven heard before she was out the door.

**X.x.X.x.X**

It was dark out. The only light Riven had was the glistening stars and the luminous moon to help her navigate through the vicinity.

Her mind was reeling as she replayed the events over and over, mulling it all thoroughly over. She didn't know whether to blame herself for going against her better judgement or to place blame solely on the clearly hedonistic woman who had lured her into lowering her defences. Just who was Ahri? Was her purpose to bed the Exile – was that why she had been so quick to offer lodging? She didn't want to accept gold after all…

Something wasn't right. This puzzle was missing a few pieces, and it bothered the warrior immensely as she tried to make sense of the situation.

Her thoughts were scattered as she stepped into something wet and she looked down – annoyed over her lack of attention and over the sudden halt in her process of thought – realizing she had come back to the stream. The waters reflected the moon and Riven found herself staring at her own reflection; there she was: hazel eyes staring back, clad in Ionian clothes, her hair an undone mess and cascading down her neck.

She looked like any ordinary woman. And despite the knitted eyebrows, she looked like she was at peace.

Her frown faded. Still peering into the waters, the swordswoman recollected Ahri's loving touch and the sensual feeling that had left the warrior silently asking for more. She could keep it from anybody else, but there was no hiding it from herself. Riven knew that she let the other woman sneak past her defences—if only for a moment.

And it had felt…_ good_.

The tan woman released a heavy sigh.

Ahri may have broken her promise, but despite her enigmatic demeanour she had done the Exile a great favour: she had let her in, treated her kindly, and perhaps she was just a lonely woman seeking companionship.

It has been to long since—

The mercenary shook her head. Her mind was somewhere dark – to memories that she rather avoid if she could.

Now was not the time.

It was cold, but for some reason the warrior was warm all over. She stared a while longer at the water, completely still, lost in thought.

There was no answer satisfying enough. The more Riven contemplated, the less it all made sense. But two things were for certain: the woman cared about her… And over time, Riven had come to grow fond of Ahri's company.

And perhaps that was an enough satisfactory answer—for now.

With one last glance at her reflection, the Exile wandered back to the house.

**X.x.X.x.X**

"…"

"Oh, you're back! I'll be honest, I didn't think you would be back so soon."

"And yet there's two cups on the table," Riven replied as she sat down. The table was cleared save for the two cups and the familiar bottle that now stood in the centre of it. Her hostess smiled warmly back.

"Can't blame a woman for hoping." She sipped on the beverage and let out a content sigh. "I'm glad you came back when you did, though."

"Mm." She poured herself some wine. "You looked like you could use some company."

The Ionian giggled and sipped some more before turning back to the Exile, smiling apologetically. "Allow me to tell you how truly sorry I am for my earlier behaviour… I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

_´I wasn't uncomfortable, that's the thing,´_ she thought. She stared back at Ahri, her face impassive. Seeing her like this in the moonlight made her look… lovely.

"Water under the bridge…" the tan warrior retorted with a sigh. "However..."

The dark-haired beauty looked puzzled. "Yes?"

It took a moment for Riven to gather herself and she turned around, her back towards her hostess. She hesitantly let her hanbok slide down her shoulders. She could practically _feel_ Ahri's baffled gaze.

"Do it properly this time. And don't stray from your mark."

She swore she heard a gasp as the other woman crawled closer, and gentle hands massaged Riven's shoulders once more.

The Exile closed her eyes. She was going to sleep well tonight.

* * *

_To be continued..._


	5. Chapter 4 - The Foxwoman

Disclaimer: League of Legends belongs to Riot Games. GrimGrave does not own any of the characters or make money out of writing fiction.

_Proof-read by the ever-so-wonderful-and-patient **Supreme Distraction**! Thank you, my dear!_

_**The Fox Woman of Ionia**_

_**Chapter 4**_

_The Foxwoman_

_/Talented hands loosened up knots across the warrior's shoulders, prompting said woman to let out a low__,__ content sigh. _Her_ fatigue and troubles melted, washed away by the magical digits that pressed small circles along a tan, broad upper back, replacing them with a soothing presence that gently wrapped around the Exile lulling her into a state of serenity._

"_Relax, Riven," her hostess whispered. Her tone was enticing and affectionate. "Deep breaths… Find your centre. If only for this one moment, let go of everything and embrace tranquillity."_

_Riven merely nodded slowly, the feel of Ahri's hands against her body serving as a slight distraction._

_Who knew the desire for a woman's touch still existed within the Noxian? The thought of surrendering herself to the Ionian crossed her mind…_

"_You came here to find enlightenment, yes? To find serenity?" Milky pale hands skilfully rubbed and kneaded _the woman's_ shoulders and upper arms. "Then let go of your warrior-mind-set. You need to see through a different view – a different mind-set – to find peace. And it's not going to be an easy task, Riven."_

_The tan woman's brow furrowed briefly._

"_But don't worry; I know you're going to find your way." Her hostess' massage continued, hands wandering up to the swordswoman's neck and down to her sides__,__ where the touch became even gentler. "Because I will be with you every step of the way, if you will but let me. Let me support you, my dear."_

_The pale-haired mercenary leant back against the Ionian – a voluptuous chest pressing against her back and blue-nailed hands smoothly scratching a toned stomach – releasing a low moan as Ahri gently pressed soft lips against her ear._

"_I'll always be there for you, Riven…"/_

The warrior-woman awoke, dark-brown orbs gradually adjusting themselves to the light of day that was pouring in from the window. A low groan emerged from the mercenary's throat as she fought the urge to drift back to sleep and slowly sat up, blinking a few times and gently slapping herself to make sure that she was indeed awake. The aroma that she caught a whiff of was surely Ahri's breakfast—

_Ahri._ Riven's mind reeled with memories – or had it all been a dream? – of that night two days ago. It had to have happened, and yet the Exile couldn't recall that it had. She knew she had allowed the raven-haired woman to massage her again, that much was clear. But beyond that point, her mind was in a haze.

Had she imagined it? A wave of shame and resentment surged within the swordswoman at the thought of having displayed such…weakness. She wasn't weak. Not her. She was strong in both mind and body. And this Ionian woman was threatening to undo this to make her frail.

Though there was no denying that Ahri's caress had been quite welcomed.

The Exile absentmindedly rubbed her neck and ran a hand over her abdomen. She remembered the warm, loving caress of feminine hands that had spread little jolts of pleasure and possessively fondled malleable mounds…

It had felt nice.

She sighed. The touches, the cosseting, the feeling of being wanted—it had all been buried underneath Riven's boot as she left everything behind that day during the invasion on Ionia, left to be forgotten and never brought back up again. And Ahri was undoing it all.

Her mind reeled.

_/The night was young and the room – a room fit for nobility; made of dark stone and decorated with blood-red carpets and a large bed – was dark, with only the moonlight and a few candles illuminating it. The bed creaked, bed sheets either tossed aside on the floor or scrunched up and damp with sweat and liquid arousal, as two figures rutted without care._

_The pale-haired warrior arched back into the bed with quivering thighs spread as another woman loomed over her, grinding against a thigh for support as slender digits curled in a ´come-hither´-motion inside a hot, wet core._

"_I always knew you'd submit to me, Riven…" The voice was slightly deeper, but richly feminine and alluringly commanding, each word almost coated with layer of enticement_ _that made the warrior want to hear more. "Fuck…!"_

_Riven moaned , hands reaching out for the other woman's back and pulling her down. "More…!"_

_Blue-green orbs narrowed as full crimson lips curled into a wicked smirk. "My pleasure."/_

The ash-blonde shook her head. It was just another dark memory of her past that she would rather not dwell on.

"Looks like you're finally up," Ahri suddenly stated, startling the Exile. The brunette was poking her head out from the doorway between the shoji screen doors with a smile, her tone chirpy and almost… relaxing to hear after having duelled with unpleasant thoughts. "I just wanted to tell you that breakfast is ready, so get dressed! Oh, and I took the opportunity to wash your clothes again. You're welcome~"

As she disappeared behind the screen doors, Riven sat still for a moment and simply stared. Everything so far had seemed surreal and unnatural when it came to be taken care of like this, the hospitality in general. Only weeks ago, the Noxian would have to fight or work for food as she wandered without abode, aimlessly scouring the world outside of Noxus for her rightful path. And now…

She closed her eyes and sighed, relaxed. Now it was all different. For the better or worse, Ahri was changing Riven.

And while the mercenary was grateful, she knew she could not let her guard down. This Ionian was different from the others – there was something about her that had raised a little red flag in Riven's head from the moment they had met.

Time would tell. But perhaps not even that was the case.

**X.x.X.x.X**

The cargo box was placed on the floor with a heavy _´thud´_ and the ash-blonde rolled her shoulders with an audible crack. Her job at the docks was the only one available to her ever since the Ionians had figured out that she was from Noxus. It wasn't ideal, but she figured she had to start out with small, menial tasks before she could fully atone for her past.

One small step was better than standing still.

It had been hours since she left to work, and throughout the day so far the Exile's mind had been occupied with nothing but her mysterious hostess. Riven paced back and forth, picking up and dumping cargo automatically as she mulled things over—specifically about the Ionian.

She was kind, caring, and with no doubt a generous soul. So why was there a sinking feeling that there had to be something off about her? The swordswoman had grown up in Noxus, a nation where strength was all that mattered, and people weren't afraid of stabbing backs and stepping over corpses to get what they wanted. While Ionia was vastly different, Ahri had been… _too_ generous—especially towards a Noxian.

In summary, her hostess seemed… familiar with Riven. As if she had met the mercenary before, Ahri's random guesses regarding the Exile were a bit too close to the mark.

_´Am I being paranoid?´_

That had to be the case, right? Nothing (nothing sinister, that was) had happened so far during her stay, after all. It had to be luck, coincidence, or a mixture of both.

She ran a hand over her face, wiping off sweat.

_Don't you trust me?_

Eyebrows knitted together in mild irritation. ´Trust´ was just a word –and words were only as true as the intentions of the person who spoke them. Who knew if the raven-haired woman's hospitality wasn't anything but a ruse to lull the warrior into a false sense of security before extracting revenge?

After all, villages had fallen during the 42nd Standard's march. Homes had been razed and lives had been taken. The possibility that Ahri had had relatives living in one of those villages or maybe even had lived there herself was plausible.

'_Tch.'_ She wasn't getting anywhere. The more she thought, the more she came to realize that the possibilities were endless – including the possibility that Riven was overthinking this – and in the end, Ahri was a kind woman who had… well, been kind. That alone was rare and refreshing.

Another box was dumped on the floor. The Noxian went back to the dock again.

_Don't you trust me?_

Another sigh. It wasn't that the mercenary _didn't want_ to trust her but, rather, she had a sinking feeling that it could be a grave mistake. Riven had enough of those on her conscience.

Besides, it was probably for the best that she didn't grow too close to that woman.

_´I can't stay rooted in one place for too long.´_

Her path was just that – a path. The warrior had to walk; keep marching. Ahri had been helpful, but she, too, would have to be left behind in the near future.

_´That day may arrive a lot sooner than I expect it to,´ _she thought.

Riven's thoughts were scattered as something poked her left cheek, startling her. Dark-brown orbs blinked and met narrowed azure ones as the kimono-wearing woman waved a little with a playful grin.

"Hello!" Ahri greeted chirpily. "I've been calling you for several minutes, dear! You really were miles away."

The Exile merely stared a moment, taken aback, eyes wide. When had the brunette gotten here? And perhaps more importantly, why was the sun starting to set?

"You've been standing here since your shift ended, Riven," her hostess said, as if she knew what her guest was thinking. "I felt like taking a stroll through the town before shops close, and I thought to myself…" She clapped her hands together. "_Why not find Riven and have her go shopping with me?"_ That's what I thought! Good thing you weren't on your way back home already."

Her job was over for today? The swordswoman hadn't even noticed that!

Her mind was boggled.

"I… see. I have a lot on my mind right now. That's all."

"You're not mulling over something unnecessary, are you?" Ahri's tone was almost stern, as if scolding a child. "Because that won't do you any good. Instead, come shopping with me! Oh! Maybe we can find you some clothes of your own? Come, come!"

She held out her hand towards the ash-blonde. Riven stared at it, unamused. "…I'm not one for such activities." Her hostess pouted – that adorable expression that the Exile dared say she actually liked – and the warrior rolled her eyes. "…Very well. I'll humour you."

The mirth that lit in those azure twin pools almost made it worth agreeing to shop with the enigmatic woman. "Perfect! Then let's go before they all close. Ooh, I can't wait to see you in various kimonos – or maybe even these new hanboks that have these new adorable patterns—"

The swordswoman stopped paying attention. It was bizarre enough to have to follow Ahri around for shopping, but the free-spirited woman had now decided that hugging her arm was fitting as well! The Ionian went on about clothes and the various kinds of stores she had planned to visit and the ash-blonde could only comply to being lead along.

Soon, her attention was directed towards the number of people who was staring at them instead.

_´What is it with this woman? Everyone is looking at us strangely–´_

She blinked. No.

The look in the Ionians' eyes was not of bafflement. They were glaring.

Each of them showed nothing but silent contempt.

Typical.

"-and this one store near the plaza has these delicious chocolate-coated – Hm? Riven, dear, is something the matter?"

Riven glanced back at her hostess. "…You do realize that just seeing me puts people off, right? If you're seen with me, they will most likely think –"

"I couldn't possibly care any less about what's on their minds," Ahri interrupted with a smile. Her embrace on the warrior's arm tightened. "Caring about what others think of you is nothing but a waste of time. You may be a Noxian, Riven, but you're not here as an enemy, and in due time, people will see that. Do what you want with no regrets, as long as you don't harm anyone."

A thin white eyebrow arched neatly. "No regrets?"

"Mhm." The raven-haired woman nodded. "Live a little! If you worry too much about other's opinions, you'll only restrain yourself and you will get nowhere. Right now, you're just another woman walking down the street – with pleasant company, might I add –" she said with a wink and a giggle. "If you weren't allowed here, you wouldn't be working at the docks – you'd be seized by the Ionian Guard. You don't have to make people like you – just accept you. And you'll win them over eventually."

"Huh," was the short response, but the swordswoman pondered Ahri's words, repeating them like a mantra. There was some truth to her statement… even if it was easier said than done.

"Remember this, Riven: you are not what others think or even claim you are. You are yourself, with your own goals and experiences and no-one can deem your worth but yourself. What others think and say about you says nothing about you as a person, but rather is says a lot about them instead."

The Noxian couldn't help her baffled expression. To hear something this motivating and even inspiring from the brunette was impressive, if anything. There truly was more to her hostess than one would think—

"Oh!" The Ionian rapidly patted her guest on the arm. "There's that sweet-shop I mentioned earlier. You just got to taste their confections, come!"

…But deep down, the Ionian was still the same unpredictable woman who had decided to chat with her at the pub. How could one jump from merry to insightful and somber, and then back to ecstatic again?

_´I truly do not understand this woman…´_

The shop looked pleasant. From outside, the large windows revealed the interior to be bright and colourful, possessing rows upon rows of various sweets, pastries, and confections.

"This is the place! Tell you what, dear, how about you go ahead and choose whatever catches your fancy? Some sugar before dinner won't spoil your appetite~" the raven-haired woman suggested.

Her guest shook her head. "I'm fine, thank you. Don't let me stop you, though."

Another pout. The ash-blonde mercenary almost wanted to reach out and pinch those soft-looking cheeks. "Boooring! Come on, Riven. Cheer up a little; it's not gonna kill you to smile and loosen up." Ahri smiled up at her. "But alright. You know what, you just wait right here – I'll head inside and find something for the both of us, alright?"

She left before her guest could respond.

Riven crossed her arms over her chest. "I suppose I'll wait then." Hazel pools strayed, looking around her: Ionians were making their way home for supper and rest, while others seemed to still be bound for work. Those who hadn't noticed the former commander looked happy – at peace, even – and a small part of her was somewhat envious of their lives.

But her goal was not out of reach. Riven would find what she was looking for, and the day she would find it was getting closer.

She peeked through the window, observing her hostess who was bouncing all over the place like a child, overjoyed and unable to decide what to buy. The warrior sighed.

The day to leave this woman behind was also drawing nearer—for the better or the worse.

It had to be done. So why was there a part of the Noxian that was hesitant?

Her concentration was cut off when something – something sweet and fruity –was forced into her mouth. Hazel pools widened at the aforementioned woman standing there, looking up at the warrior with a chuckle as she kept force-feeding the ash-blonde.

It took Riven a few extra seconds to notice that not only was Ahri feeding her something, but her fingers were partially inside her mouth, too!

She quickly backed away and coughed violently. She spat out half-chewed bits of whatever Ahri had fed her, and the raven-haired woman sighed.

"Aw, such a shame… I thought you'd enjoy that."

Riven glared down at the woman. "What did you force me to eat? Actually, what compelled you to force-feed me to begin with?" she asked angrily.

"It's called _Jeonggwa_, and it is seeds, plant roots, and fruit boiled in honey. And you just wasted a piece," the Ionian retorted playfully with a feigned offended look. "What were you thinking that made you wear such a serious expression?"

The swordswoman didn't reply.

"Right. Yet another thing you're not going to share." The brunette rolled her eyes jokingly. "You know, I bought these specifically as an apology."

The tan woman blinked. "An apology? For what?"

She smiled – sincerely – at Riven. "Well, for making you uncomfortable with the massage that time. Believe me when I say this, I honestly did not mean to offend. It's just who I am. " She gazed down at the brown bag of confections in her hand. "Hmm… Maybe I should've gone for the chocolate instead… Tell you what, I'll be right back with—"

"_Wait."_

The former commander didn't know – and most likely neither did the Ionian – what made her reach out and grab Ahri by the arm, but the woman's arm was pleasantly warm and her skin smooth enough to cause the Noxian to pause to admire the feel of it.

It was moments like this, when her hostess showed genuine concern, that Riven felt a sense of appreciation for the woman. This side of her was refreshing to see and knowing that there was a caring individual underneath the coy and playful demeanour lessened the warrior's vexation.

And the brunette had gone out of her way to buy something for her as a mean to make amends, even if she didn't have to…

"Let me try another one. I wasn't prepared for the first one."

Twin azure orbs lit up with mirth as the dark-haired woman stepped closer and held out the bag for the mercenary to peek into. Riven reached in and fished up a piece of the confections and ate it.

It tasted indeed like honey, and fruity, like a pear.

"…It's good. I like it."

"Really? That's great!" Ahri exclaimed. "Maybe we can settle with this for today. There's always tomorrow, after all!" She gave her guest the bag and held out her hand. "Shall we head home?"

The swordswoman stared at her hand, and then her eyes were straying upwards to the beaming expression of her Ionian hostess. This person was… so strange. An oddball that changed from flirty to almost motherly at the drop of a hat and definitely kept a few secrets herself, which begged the question—_what kind of secrets?_ Ahri was a woman that the ash-blonde would've preferred not to meet and would have avoided at all costs, with a cheerful attitude that was almost off-putting at times, and she certainly was quick to repeat mistakes she had previously apologized for, which only vexed the warrior.

An Ionian "Samaritan" that possibly had ulterior motives beneath her caring demeanour, and yet…

And yet, this woman was the sole reason the Noxian had a roof over her head, proper meals through the day, and a place to sleep, and she asked for nothing in return. This woman had treated her, a foreigner, with the one thing she had never gotten during her time in Noxus: kindness.

Ahri was strange and unpredictable, but the former commander was not perfect either, and to have someone like the brunette dote on her so much was…well, Riven knew she was lucky to have someone like her as a friend.

Friend. She hadn't had one of those in a long, long time. She kind of liked the thought.

"I'll humour you," she lied. A part of the warrior had wanted to, if even once, hold hands with her. Her left hand grasped Ahri's. It was warm. "And I forgive you."

The raven-haired woman didn't reply, but her smile spoke volumes as she gently squeezed the tan warrior's hand as she began to lead the way.

Riven's hazel eyes glanced over to the Ionian. This was…nice.

Blink.

No… It was bittersweet. This only made matters worse: she had grown used to the dark-haired female's her antics, her insight, and her presence.

This had to come to an end… and soon. As the Noxian traveller watched Ahri's beam and listened to her rambling, the hesitation to leave her behind grew stronger, and the ever-gnawing thoughts of how this person may not be who she claimed to be was stronger than before.

This was driving the ash-blonde crazy.

**X.x.X.x.X**

_/"No… not you again... Leave me alone. How much longer will you haunt me?"_

_A girl barely older than the Noxian walked limply towards her, her clothes – once bright and colourful Ionian garb –_were _matted with blood and dirt, and torn all over. Her pitch-black hair clung to a formerly-beautiful face that was devoid of any emotions except dread. Green eyes were glassy and widened and her lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out._

"_You didn't deserve this… None of you did."_

_A lie. Only the strong survived. But the elimination of Ionia was not what the field commander had signed up for—it was supposed to be a reformation._

_What she had witnessed – what she had participated in – was instead a mass-slaughter of a peaceful people._

_The Ionian girl started weeping, hands and knees on the muddy ground. How many times had this scene played out inside the warrior's head?_

_And as she had done countless times before, Riven stepped towards the girl, a hand outstretched for her –_

_The Ionian glared up at her, a ear-piercing cry emitting from her throat as she dashed towards the warrior, as did a countless number of other fallen villagers. /_

Riven awoke with a startling gasp. She looked around and sighed.

Another nightmare and nothing more.

Her pulse was high, her heart beating fast. The tan woman wiped her brow and attempted to calm herself down.

"Is there no end to this?"

Her inner demons were persistent, and that was a given, but having had grown used to blissful nights, the painful reminder of her sins stung even more when they did return.

She gritted her teeth in frustration and shut her eyes. The swordswoman tossed and turned for a little while, but it was to no avail.

"I can't sleep…"

Sighing in defeat, she got up, not bothering to cover herself as she left her room wearing only her breast-bindings and panties.

The moonlight filtered through the windows and illuminated the humble home, and the sound of cicadas outside was the only noise that broke an otherwise silent night. Riven caught a glimpse of the stars as she left her room, quietly appreciating their low glow up above.

_´I could go for a moment of star-gazing.´_

If she couldn't sleep, she could at least contemplate while admiring the sky. Riven had many a time during her journeys taken a moment to just watch the boundless sky and think.

The Noxian made her way back past her room, sliding the shoji-screen doors that she thought would lead to the living-room.

Instead, the room she stepped into was smaller, but just as homely; very traditional in both style and décor. The lodging had Ionian paintings hung upon the walls and a small lowered desk. The rest was shrouded in the dark, but right in the centre laid a motionless form snuggled underneath the futon blanket.

She hadn't meant to stay there, but the warrior wouldn't move.

Instead of stepping back out and closing the doors, Riven found herself parsing her sleeping hostess with mild fascination. She looked so… adorable, almost. So serene and cute—like a young animal.

The longer the mercenary stared, the more she came to realize that she was moving from the doorway to the slumbering form of the Ionian.

Ahri's breathing was quiet and her eyelids stirred, but otherwise she remained asleep. The tan woman kept observing in silence, admiring her hostess' beauty properly for the first time: long black hair was freed from its usual braid and spilled out over the futon, contrasting milky white skin, and what little that could be glimpsed of her nightgown was either dark-blue or pitch black.

"…She's easy on the eyes," Riven admitted as she knelt down. She didn't know why she hadn't left yet. Many thoughts reeled through her mind, specifically about Ahri's perhaps sinister motives. The possibility of Ahri biding her time to extract revenge seemed like such a baseless, silly idea right now.

The swordswoman sighed. _'Look at her… ´_

She watched the raven-haired woman a little while longer. There was something irresistible about watching over the sleeping woman, and Riven couldn't help but to do just that.

Just what was it with this woman?

The Noxian got back up. "Right… Star-gazing."

She turned to leave but stopped at the doorway. Casting one last glance at the dreaming Ionian, the warrior shut the screen-doors behind her.

Nothing stirred in the dark room. All was silent.

Then, azure pools cracked wide open and glowed in the shadows, a small, sly smile curving full lips.

**X.x.X.x.X**

"_Moooorning~!"_

Riven woke up to the sunlight and shielded her eyes with a weary groan. She remembered spending an hour or two looking at the star-lit sky while contemplating before finally getting drowsy and heading back to bed again.

Hazel eyes blinked and strayed over to the brunette above:Ahri smirked as she waved a little, garnering her guest's attention. "Wakey wakey, sleepyhead, time for breakfast!"

The pale-haired warrior groaned again. "I want to sleep some more…"

"I've already been generous and let you sleep for a while longer," was the reply. "Any more, though, and you'll sleep through the entire day."

The former field-commander glared daggers at her hostess knowing too well that there was truth to her words, but any thoughts regarding Ahri and the point she was making were forgotten in a heartbeat and Riven's stared wide-eyed when she noticed that the Ionian was sitting down in an un-lady like fashion that was ill-suited for her kimono, unintentionally revealing a dark purple garment tucked between firm, creamy loins.

The swordswoman bolted upwards Riven bolted or did her gaze? quickly – perhaps not quickly enough – shook her head.

_´Is she not aware of what she's doing? She must be…´_

"Hmm~?" Ahri cocked her head to the side, still smiling as if nothing was amiss. "What's the matter, dear?"

_´She's got to be feigning ignorance…´_ The swordswoman sighed. "Nothing… I just forced myself up. Thank you for waking me up, I guess."

While the look on the long-haired woman's face said she didn't believe her, Ahri didn't press any further on the subject.

"Anytime~" she said chirpily. The dark-haired woman got up on her feet and turned to leave. "The table is set, so get dressed. You don't have work today, right? You can rest some more afterwards." She left with a giggle.

The moment Ahri was out of sight, the tan woman ran a hand over her face with a sigh. The image of her hostess nether region, covered by purple underwear, was seared into her brain whether she liked it or not.

**X.x.X.x.X**

The breakfast was nothing out of the ordinary, Riven's hostess having cooked delicious food that could very well function as lunch as well, but who was the warrior to complain?

Although, while pretending not to have seen it, the ash-blonde had noticed the way Ahri had ogled at her with a _come-hither_ look – she hadn't taken her eyes off the Noxian for even a second. It was far from the first time it had happened, but this was…different.

The sheer volume of lust residing in that long stare was dissimilar from the occasional glances Ahri threw at Riven.

It was unwelcome. Or so Riven thought, even as her body grew warm…

"I was thinking," the brunette began, breaking her guest's train of thought. "You looked absolutely stunning in the hanbok I lent you that one time, and it wouldn't hurt you to wear something other than your usual attire." She gestured at the swordswoman. "And you should let your hair down every now and then, too. Have you any idea how much it suits you, my dear?"

"I'll pass," Riven retorted. "And you have told me before."

"Then don't make me repeat myself." The Ionian giggled with a wink. "What are you so afraid of?"

The former field-commander rolled her eyes. "It's not about fear; I just don't feel comfortable in that attire. Besides, I can move more freely in my own clothes." She helped herself to bean sprout rice and stewed fish, savouring the explosion of flavours.

Honestly, she'd probably miss this the most. Who knew when the warrior would eat something like this again?

"I assure you, my wardrobe would not interfere with your movements, but have it your way. I'll be sure to give you another friendly reminder in due time," Ahri stated teasingly. "Moving on, did you sleep well, Riven?"

A nod.

"Good to know. I take it that you don't have any bad dreams anymore, then?"

The mercenary chewed her food and sighed. "…I do. But they appear less frequently. I'd say it's an improvement." She was about to take another bite of her grilled ribs when Riven paused. "Wait… _´Anymore´_? How did you know I had –?"

"I can hear you groan and thrash around in the night sometimes," Ahri replied rather quickly. She sipped her tea. "I would've asked you about them, but I take it that you have no intention of sharing that either, no?" There was a small grin on her lips but the ash-blonde dismissed it. Her hostess was right, after all.

"Exactly. And I thank you for not asking."

"You're very welcome." The brunette tucked a few long strands of her velvety hair behind her ear. "So, may I instead ask what your plans are for today? The weather sure is nice… Could I persuade you in accompanying me for some outdoor activities?"

Riven shivered ever so slightly at the way the other woman had said the last part.

"I was hoping to meditate – perhaps take you up on your advice and do so underneath the cherry-blossom tree."

The raven-haired woman beamed and clasped her hands together. "A wonderful idea! Yes, you should totally do that. I just remembered that I have something I must do anyway…"

The Noxian arched an eyebrow, puzzled. "And what would that be?"

The cocky grin she received was enough to make Riven want to scoot back a bit as Ahri stuck out her tongue mirthfully. "Nothing I want to share, I'm afraid."

"Tch. Funny."

"I thought so too," her hostess replied and giggled. "Enjoy your quiet-time, my dear."

**X.x.X.x.X**

It was indeed beautiful weather: there were barely any clouds in the sky and it was warm outside with the occasional refreshing breeze blowing by.

Wasting no time, the swordswoman sat down, cross-legged, underneath the cherry-blossom tree. It was cool in its shadow, and the pink-clad branches above her were oddly satisfying to gaze at before she closed her eyes and drifted off into her expansive mind.

As Riven reflected on her current situation, she desperately tried not to let her mind wander too much to the darkest corners of her mind where she kept her past hidden.

Alas, she failed. Ahri's recent behaviour was an ugly reminder of what the warrior had once had.

_/ "So you're leaving tomorrow."_

_The way that sentence had been said was not as a question, but rather a statement._

_The pale-haired woman nodded. "Yes. Tomorrow, we'll leave for Ionia."_

_A short chortle. "I wish I could join you."_

_Neither said anything in that moment. Instead, a pale slender arm wrapped around the tan warrior's waist and pulled her naked form closer for crimson lips to peck at an exposed throat, straying downwards and nibbling supple skin._

"_Be a good girl and do me proud. I expect to hear of your victory against those pacifists, pet." _

_The nibbling became skin-piercing bites that left the field-commander's flesh bruised and bloodied to a mild degree and the latter groaned in pleasure-pain._

"_I can't hear you." The touches, the biting – it all stopped, and blue-green eyes narrowed, lips drawing a disapprovingly thin line. "Reply as you usually do, pet."_

_This silence was a first, and the field-commander knew why. How long had she pondered and come to the realization that this… whatever it could be called, had to come to an end._

_But rather than face punishment and drawing the ire of her superior, the warrior arced back, offering more of her body to the feisty redhead that loomed above her and whispered, "Yes, my lady. I'll do you proud and return to Noxus victorious."_

_Silence. _

"_Better," the redhead finally allowed as she brushed slender fingers against wet, swollen lips. "I'm looking forward to hear from you as soon as you get back…" /_

The swordswoman shook her head, eyelids still clenched shut.

Focus. Focus _was _essential.

Pushing away her dark memories in an attempt to regain her composure, Riven took a deep breath. In from the nose, out from the mouth. Repeat.

Slowly but steadily, she ignored the grim corners of her mind and centred herself.

She didn't need _her_ then and she didn't need her now. The ash-blonde was a warrior, a wanderer, a fighter with a steadfast conviction.

Riven was a lone-wolf. She would bear the weight of her sins by herself. She didn't _need_ anyone else; no-one have to share her burden.

This was her fight. This was her path to walk. And as much as Ahri has been kind and helpful, she too would have to be left behind along with the Noxian's grim past.

The swordswoman remembered what she had promised herself way back: one, to not get involved with anyone, and two, to never stay rooted in one place for too long. She had broken both by staying with the dark-haired woman, and perhaps it was time to make a move.

Perhaps it was time to cut her ties and seek out the duchess of Ionia and maybe even leave the island entirely, depending on the outcome of her meeting with the "Enlightened One"—the one who would surely help the former field-commander to achieve atonement, enlightenment, and closure.

Staying with Ahri – staying with anyone – wouldn't lead her anywhere. She had to keep on marching.

But then there was the revelation that Riven had come to realize: she cared about the Ionian – a lot more than she would admit even to herself. The brunette was a friend, and taking the bad with the good and the good with the bad, the tan woman had grown somewhat… fond of her. To actually leave her was easier said than done and part of Riven didn't want to go through with it.

Eyelids opened up and hazel eyes looked around. The mercenary had no clue how much time had passed, but the weather was still sunny, although there were more clouds in the sky now. The wind was more violent.

Having found no satisfying answer, Riven got up and headed back inside with a sigh. She would undoubtedly still mull it all over –

She abruptly ceased movement on the veranda. Right in the middle of the room, on the patch where sunlight filtered through the window, laid Ahri.

She was asleep.

The tan woman studied her for a moment but came no closer to understanding as to why her hostess was sleeping on the living-room floor. Riven remembered seeing her defenceless form last night, and seeing her now had the same effect on the warrior.

_´What was she doing to have her sleep like this? There are better places to take a nap…´_

The raven-haired Ionian stirred in her sleep. Her ample chest heaved with each breath and Riven found her gaze drifting over to her malleable-looking mounds. She had to force herself to focus on Ahri's peaceful face.

Without a second thought, the mercenary was standing right before her hostess again. The view was much clearer than last night, and it occurred to her now, the brunette really was –

"Beautiful…"

Honestly, there was no denying that this woman was alluring—the complete opposite of herself, Riven thought as she kneeled down, mimicking her actions from last night as she brushed aside loose strands of hair. Where Riven was battle-hardened and fit, Ahri was feminine and soft.

She let coarse fingertips graze across smooth, milky skin, and took her time to admire the napping woman –

Blue orbs shot wide open and soft-looking lips curled into a wicked smile. "You know, I thought you of all people wouldn't actually touch someone without their consent. Not that I mind…"

Riven quickly withdrew her hand – as if she had been scalded – and glared at the woman as she rose up from her kneeling position. "You were awake."

"Of course!" The Ionian sat up, batting her eyelashes innocently while she smirked. "I couldn't resist. It seems like you're only honest when you think I can't hear you. Just like last night. Oh, and thank you for the compliment, by the way, my dear! _´Easy on the eyes´_, am I?" She giggled. "I couldn't help but decide to tease you upon hearing you last night. It's in my nature."

The swordswoman blanched. Ahri had… heard her?

_Focus._

She repeated that word like a mantra inside her head, desperate to calm down. This was just an embarrassing moment, nothing to freak out over.

Focus. Focus was essential.

"I do not know myself why I did any of that," she stated, which was partially true. "And while I did it without your consent, it's nothing compared to what you've done."

"I admit that what I did was not consensual, but you've already forgiven me for that." The black-haired female teasingly stuck out her tongue. "No need to dig up old crimes now, right? Besides, you did allow me to massage you right afterwards… and the day after, too."

Riven bristled. "I did, and I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted, because I am not going to be around for much longer."

The second those words spilled out, the warrior-woman regretted saying them – or rather, saying it the way she just had. Her tone had been harsh and, while she wanted to tell the playful woman off, Riven hadn't meant to sound so resentful. But that was not what surprised her.

What did catch the Noxian off-guard was how quickly Ahri's smugness faded, azure eyes widened in a glassy stare and full lips released a breathless, soundless gasp.

Her hostess was up on her feet at an instant. "You're leaving?"

The way the brunette said it made Riven regret her little outburst even more. "…I have to, eventually."

"Why?" Her expression was worrying, and the ash-blonde was in disbelief over the drastic change in demeanour. "Is it because of me?"

"I need to keep marching," was the reply the Noxian gave. Her heartrate quickened underneath her breast and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to look the other woman in the eyes. "I can't stay in one place for too long. I have to –"

"Aren't you happy here? You have a roof over your head, a comfortable place to sleep, and," Ahri interrupted, laughing, albeit nervously, as she gestured at herself. "A generous hostess who is more than willing to take care of you, and I don't even want anything in return. Aren't you happy?"

The sunlight disappeared. The faint trickle of rain drops could be heard.

The former field-commander steeled herself. This conversation was not meant to take place right now, but now that the cat was out of the bag…

"That's exactly it: why **are** you so kind to me? I was nothing but a stranger from Noxus when you approached me, yet you treated me as if we were life-long friends. I don't understand you." She paused. "I am thankful for what you've done for me. I am closer to my goal, thanks to you. But I need to keep walking my path, and I will not be able to if I stay with you. Besides, I'm a wanderer; a lone-wolf. I belong in the –"

Kimono-clad arms wrapped themselves around Riven and pulled her close, effectively cutting her off. Ahri buried her face in her guest's bosom as she embraced her tightly.

"_Don't go."_

The taller woman could only gawk at her hostess. Various thoughts flooded her mind at once, so she stood there and let the brunette hug her.

"Don't go, Riven."

This close contact with another… It made the warrior's ´fight-or-flight´ instinct rear its head.

"…I have to. I told you, I'm a lone-wolf –"

"Even a lone-wolf is a member of the dog family, and family sticks together," was the muffled reply. The raven-haired Ionian looked up, her azure pools watery with distress and the sight struck Riven like an arrow to the chest. "Don't leave."

The Noxian kept gawking. What was it with this woman?! All long she had been nothing but a flirty-yet-mature individual who had helped guide Riven with words of encouragement, insight, and inspiration. Hell, more often than not she had made it perfectly clear that she swung the other way and would likely bed the warrior if she ever got the chance.

And now here she was, clinging onto the pale-haired female like a little child – like a little lost animal who had grown attached to her.

Was this the Ionian's true side?

"I can visit you," the blonde finally said, breaking the silence. Her hostess didn't budge. "I've never had a true… friend, but I keep contact with the few people I know. I would like to come back here again."

No response.

"Let go." Sympathy made way for annoyance. "I won't tell you twice."

"If you're going, I'll follow you." The look in the brunette's eyes was determined now.

"No." There was no way that could happen. "This is my path, and my burden. Let go."

"I won't."

Riven's body tensed and she pried the woman off her before pushing her away –

Her arms were suddenly spread wide, leaving her open as Ahri was suddenly right in front of the mercenary in a flash, shocking her.

An overpowering fragrance – sweet and fruity– entered the ash-blonde's nostrils and something warm and wetted grazed her lips before fully claiming them.

The warrior couldn't move. She couldn't think. Blood roared in her ears and her heart skipped several beats before resuming its rapid pulsing. Her body grew hot as if it was cloaked in fire and her focus was shattered like the blade of her sword.

A talented tongue explored her oral cavern, snaking against her own as the Ionian brushed up against the warrior's body. The taste of Ahri's kisses was indescribable.

It felt… good. _So_ good. For a moment, the warrior-woman nearly lost herself to pleasure and wanted more of what this beauty had to offer…

_´No!´_

This kind of close contact – this intimacy – was something the Noxian had ceased to yearn for a long time ago. She was so close to her goal now, she couldn't let this hedonist hinder her from achieving what she had strived for for such a long time. Endless days of enduring weather and scorning looks, endless days of pointless fighting and resentment…

It couldn't be a waste! This had to end – her conviction was her strength!

The ash-blonde determinedly grabbed hold of Ahri by her shoulders and forced her off her with such strength that she didn't take into account that the shorter woman would fall onto the floor –

The raven-haired Ionian landed with ease and vanished in the blink of an eye. It all happened too fast and when the former field-commander finally understood what had happened, the brunette – the woman who had seemed to be a frail civilian – suddenly displayed inhuman speed, agility, and most noticeable of all, strength: Riven was held down on the floor in barely 2 seconds. The back of her head stung from the impact and her heart raced as Ahri pinned her arms and straddled her midsection.

Her sword was on the other side of the room, resting against the wall.

"Our meeting at the pub wasn't by chance, Riven." Azure orbs watched with a bizarre mix of animalistic hunger and affection. "You're no stranger to me. I've had eyes for you for a while now."

The swordswoman couldn't reply. Her body wouldn't move. She merely looked back up at her assailer, countless questions going through her head.

The black-haired female sighed, her expression melancholy. "I… I hadn't meant for this to happen yet… but I can't take it anymore. Enough with prevarications."

Riven opened her mouth to speak, to question just what on earth her hostess meant, but quieted down almost immediately. Brown eyes stared wide-eyed at the woman above her…

Almond shaped eyes, once blue as the sky, lost their brightness in favour of a different lustre. Azure orbs were now radiant chrome – almost golden – and became vulpine-curved—as if the Noxian was staring right into the eyes of an animal.

She couldn't stifle the gasp that escaped her.

_/ "I don't like nights such as this… It is nights like these that they say people are spirited away…" /_

A pair of ears – these being more akin to that of an animal – grew from her head, pitch-black like her hair and furry.

Riven, for the first in a very long time, shivered with a hint of fear.

_/ "People are said to have vanished from the countryside."/_

Pale cheeks, once smooth and flawless, now sported thin protruding whisker marks – three on each cheek.

_/ "Have you ever heard the myths of the __**kumiho**__? Legends say that foxes that live for 1000 years can freely shapeshift into a human!" /_

A curtain of white sprouted up behind the Ionian, the noise of them appearing being unusual. It took the fighter a moment to realize that the curtain was in fact 9 long, snow-white tails that towered over the two females.

Tails of a certain kind of animal…

_/ "They are said to take the shape of beautiful, bewitching women in order to lure people away and eat their hearts and livers!" /_

Hazel stared right into chrome. Riven's heart was racing wildly.

_´It can't be…´_

The warrior swallowed hard.

_´Fox-tails…! ´_

The rain was pouring down outside. The faint rolling of thunder echoed in the distance.

* * *

_To be continued. ^_^_


	6. Chapter 5 - The Grateful Fox

Disclaimer: League of Legends belongs to Riot Games. GrimGrave does not own any of the characters or make money out of writing fiction.

_Thank you, **Supreme Distraction**, for your help as always!_

_**The Fox Woman of Ionia**_

_**Chapter 5**_

_The Grateful Fox_

_/I haven't forgotten that day, several months ago – how could I? _

_My life went by, the same as usual. Days _were_ long since lost meaning to me, each one the same as the last, but not __**that**__ one. I have lived through strife and famine, the mortality of age and disease, and the cruelty of man._

_Days, months, years _passed_ by like a summer breeze, and yet these last few months were so agonizingly slow that I for the first time in a very long time nearly bristled._

_But in my hunger that fateful day, I made a mistake that could've cost me my life. Making my way through the forest, a sudden sharp pain caught me by my tail, and wouldn't let go. I was trapped, and I was afraid. If the cold didn't get to me, then hunger would… Or I would be taken by any wild animal that looked for food as well._

_I was afraid of death for the first time in years._

_And then you appeared; the human woman whom I would eventually fall for. Taken by surprise, I couldn't help but growl and try to scare you off. After all, had I shed my vulpine form, who knows how you would've reacted? I don't fancy the idea of hunters (or dare I even say, ´exorcists´?), and with the trap keeping me in place, I was an easy target._

"_Cruel, isn't it?" you said, and I felt compelled to listen. For someone who looked so menacing with that broken blade swung over your shoulder, your voice was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard, and it still is to this day. "You can't even run away, much less defend yourself. So here you are, trapped, and I'm hungry."_

_At that point my heart sank. I was truly going to die, because of a moment of carelessness._

_Or so I thought._

_Though your intention had been to slay me, to eat me, mercy guided your weapon to instead break the trap that held me. I was free. You chose to let me live. From that moment on, I was grateful to you._

_You offered me __**mercy**__, despite your own growing hunger. You had my life in your hands, and you chose life over death._

"_You're far too beautiful to be killed. How could I slay such a magnificent creature when it can't even defend itself?" you said. My heart still flutters with elation when I think about it…_

_No, I couldn't possibly forget that day – not in a hundred years. I could never forget your ashen tresses that whirled over your tanned face, and that vague smile that warmed me to the point that I thought the snow around me would melt. You looked so lovely… I wanted to befriend you, talk to you, and__be with you. _

_Yet behind that smile, I could see the sorrow in your eyes and the grief you carried on your shoulders. There was so much more to you than meets the eyes, and I wanted to know everything; every nook, every cranny, every dirty little secret, and everything in-between!_

_As I watched you dash through the snow, I stared at you until you were out of sight. I didn't know at the time why I did so, nor why I expected to see you come back. I spent days, perhaps even weeks, contemplating what was so special about you – why I wanted so strongly to find you again – before I finally found my rather simple answer._

_From that moment on, I knew I had to find you again, no matter how long it would take. I had caught your scent; it was weak, but it as there. It was only a matter of time. I would find you – you, the human who freed me. You, the woman I fell in love with._

_And I always get what I want…/_

**X.x.X.x.X**

_/ You'll never know the amount of joy that threatened to burst my little heart when I finally found you again. I couldn't even move. I just gawked until you whirled around to face my direction. I hid myself, and watched you from the shadows, for although I had finally found you, I couldn't very well just walk up to you like this._

_It wasn't until a day later, when the festival was in full motion that I saw my chance. My heart fluttered as I made my way to the opposite side of the pub and observed you a little while longer, taking you in, studying you…_

_Ahh, my dear, dear Riven…Not that I knew your name at the time. And not that it mattered. I would learn it soon enough!_

_I was almost giddy, but I forced on a cool front and observed you; even though months had passed, you still had this somber look in your pretty eyes, and it made me feel guilty… just a little. I knew a few tricks that would've cheered you up, but this was neither the time nor place. Things like that was much better suited for the bedroom~_

_But just as I was about to set my plan into motion, I saw these humans suddenly shift _delete_ their attention towards you and the tension was so thick in the air, you could practically cut it with a knife. I saw_ _in the Ionians' eyes a hatred that burns strongly, and it reminds me of how unpredictable humans can be at times, so I ready myself to interfere if needed-_

_My eyes widen__when I see saw the famous Captain of the Guard striding towards you, and I can't tell if her intentions are hostile or not. You two talked, and while I still don't know what was said, it seemed that the Ionians left you alone once the girl exited the building._

_How untactful of that slip of a girl, to have just walked up to you like that. Couldn't she tell that you were already taken?_

…

_Silly me. Jealousy doesn't suit me well._

_I studied you for a while longer as you returned to your meal. As much as I wanted to just jump into your arms, I had to_ _remain calm and tactful._

_And as soon as your glass was empty, I'd step in with beauty, friendliness, and a little gift to put you in a good mood…/_

**X.x.X.x.X**

The Exile's heart was wildly racing beneath her breast. Blood was pumping in her ears, loud enough to almost completely drown out the pelting of rain and rolling of thunder. Her hazel pools were wide with bewilderment and fear that trickled down her spine as she stared right into chrome orbs of the woman – no: the legend, the myth, the creature in human-disguise that devours hearts and livers – who was pinning her down.

The Kumiho – a nine-tailed fox demon, a monster, a spirit, whatever it was – was looking at her with a mix of sadness and elation in those beastly pupils of hers, furry ears twitching. The nine long white tails varied in motions, some wagged gently from side to side, others didn't move at all, and the rest shifted slightly against the floor.

Panic surged through the warrior, and her focus was shattered. Her heart wouldn't slow down, especially not when Riven struggled to even move her arms… A girl of Ahri's size and build shouldn't have the strength to keep a warrior like her pinned, but then again, Ahri wasn't just a girl, now was she?

The mercenary mentally cursed to herself. Was this her fate? To end up as dinner to some monster, without anyone remembering her? In a twisted way, Riven deemed that was perhaps a fitting end to someone like her. But after several minutes passing without anything happening, she managed to calm herself down enough to think properly, but the fear was still deeply embedded.

The Kumiho was merely staring at her, uncertainty and melancholy etched into her features. Was she contemplating how to best kill her pale-haired prey? Would it be – which was common in the animal kingdom – to go for the throat? Or would the monster/spirit/whatever rip out the Noxian's insides while she was still alive and enjoy the still-beating heart just like how she had enjoyed the Jeonggwa?

Riven attempted in vain to steady her heavy breathing, to focus, but the dreaded silence and the abnormality (i.e. Ahri) was still in control. The raven-haired creature had already displayed superior speed **and** strength; it was foolish to think that the warrior could force her off her and make a dash for the blade.

Nothing happened. The fox-creature wasn't even looking the Noxian in the eyes anymore. What was going on inside her head?

"…Aren't you going to eat me?" The hint of fear in Riven's voice didn't escape her notice.

Ahri snapped back to attention, eying the woman on the floor curiously… _baffled?_ "…Pardon me?"

The suspense was killing her. "I said… Aren't you going to eat me? Didn't you invite me over and try to seduce me in order to eat my insides?" She felt stupid for even asking such a thing, but to simply wait for death was more torturous than anything. Better to have it be done and over with.

A thin eyebrow arched. Golden eyes peered puzzlingly down at the ash-blonde and lips parted soundlessly before Ahri finally said, "…What?"

Fear made way for embarrassment. "Don't make me ask again. That's why you lured me here, wasn't it?" What else could it be? No-one offered you a place to stay out of the goodness in their hearts, at least not in Noxus.

The corners of the Ionian's lips curved upwards. "Ah… what? Wait, you thought I was…?" She beamed. Then it came: laughter – loud, chiming, genuine laughter. Not a mad cackle or a mocking guffaw, but innocent, almost childish and definitely very girlish laughter. So far gone in rolling in the aisles was the Kumiho that she fell down on the floor, on her side, still giggling. "Oh, this is _priceless!_"

Despite being free to move, to make a run for her weapon, the ash-blonde just looked over at the woman beside her. She didn't understand a damn thing, and the hotness that tinted her cheeks made her wish she was anywhere but here. This was humiliating.

Riven finally sat up, still observing the raven-haired creature in mild annoyance. "…Are you done yet?"

"Yes, my apologies," Ahri replied in-between fits of giggles. She was clutching her sides and struggling to sit up. "Oh my… I can't remember when I last laughed so much…"

The warrior tensed, comprehending the situation, and got up on her feet. She dashed across the room where her blade was resting against the wall. She could make it. The Exile grabbed it by the hilt, spun around with sword raised high and –

In the next moment, her blade clattered with a loud _´thud´_ against the wooden floor. A blue projectile, too fast for the former field-commander's eyes to see, had pierced through her and knocked her weapon out of her grip.

Across the living-room, Ahri smiled amusedly at her guest, her right hand shimmering with cobalt-coloured, flame-like… something. Whatever it was, it vanished in an eye blink. "There's no need for that, my dear. You're in no danger."

Riven attempted to conceal her anxiety. "Forgive me if I have trouble believing you, _Kumiho._"

She looked amused. Her ears perked and she rose up on her feet. "What's the matter, Riven?" Her voice was honeyed. "Don't you trust me?"

The tan woman bristled. She knew that the other woman wasn't human – that she possessed supernatural power – but something about her demeanour right now seemed genuine. Or had she already fallen under the mythical creature's charm?

She steeled herself and didn't move from her spot, frequently glancing over at her greatsword.

When no reply came, the Ionian sighed and rolled her eyes. "If my intentions had been to make you my latest midnight-snack, you'd be dead the same night we met, Riven. I wouldn't have waited weeks to do that – I don't play around." She chuckled. "Well, not with food anyway…"

The Noxian swallowed hard. Her heart was still racing. "…You… Your goal was not to eat me? That doesn't make sense! I've heard about Kumihos –"

Her hostess frowned. "I am not calling you humans liars, but you certainly don't know the full story. Besides…" Her expression warmed greatly, and she smiled shyly at the swordswoman. "There is no way I could possibly harm you."

The mercenary's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean? Kumihos are supposed to lure humans away to devour their insides."

Ahri rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Do you remember when you first arrived in Ionia, my dear?"

What kind of absurd question was that? A moment ago, this creature could've snapped her neck if she so pleased, and now she wanted the warrior to reminisce?! Despite it, Riven complied, while keeping an eye on her weapon – just a few feet away. She could have it back in her hands in a heartbeat, and this distance between them… She could make it. One slash and she'd won.

"Yes, I remember… I was forced to hunt for food in the woods outside a harbour town. I barely had enough gold on me for a room and rations had run out during the journey across the sea." She bit her lower lip, reprimanding herself for unnecessarily revealing details to _her_. "What about it?"

"You don't remember, do you? Last winter, you were wandering through the southern woods…" Chrome pools widened with tenderness as she continued. "And you came across a helpless creature."

Riven's heart throbbed. She remembered that day clearly, and realization struck like a bolt of lightning. "…Yes. A fox; I freed it from a bear-trap…" The Exile blanched. It couldn't be… "That was **you**?"

"Indeed. I've been trying to find you since that day, but you're rather elusive. And now that I have you, I don't intend to let you go." She beckoned Riven with her index-finger, smiling flirtatiously. "Let me repay you, in kind…"

The former field-commander gritted her teeth. She wouldn't be snared, by humans _or _monsters. "Repay me? For what?" she harshly retorted. "So I showed you mercy and didn't make a meal out of you – and your way of thanking me is to deceive me and attack me while I'm not looking?"

"While I don't see what you mean by _´attacking you´_, you're absolutely correct; you could've killed me that day, but you didn't. You could've eaten me, but you chose not to. So why would I wish harm upon my saviour, much less **eat** her?" Her smile became a feral grin as vulpine orbs focused on the swordswoman without blinking. "Mercy is a human luxury... **and **responsibility. More precisely, your mercy towards me that day is your responsibility." In a flash, she stood before the now-baffled Noxian. "You offered me mercy, and I fell for you, my dear. Now take responsibility~"

The ash-blonde staggered backwards, despite herself. She was a warrior, a native of Noxus where strength was all that mattered. She had seen fields of death and had stared into its eyes enough times that she no longer faltered, and yet this woman was breaking down her nerves without even trying! She gulped loudly, her throat dry, and the Kumiho stepped even closer.

"F-fell for me? What are you on about?! Are you implying –"

"You were right in that I want your heart, but I don't want it for consumption… However," Ahri answered, her words trailing off as she crossed the final distance between them and trapped her guest against the wall, her left hand reaching out to touch Riven's belly through her clothes, slowly sliding downwards. "There's something else of yours that I would prefer to eat…"

A red flag went off in the Noxian's mind and her whole body tensed considerably as she grabbed the Ionian by her shoulders and, with a surge of desperate strength, shoved her off. "Hold it!" She pointed at the brunette. "You stay right there, and not an inch closer. First of all, explain yourself! What are you going on about, and what do you mean by all of this?" Riven barked, and she made no attempt to hide her anger.

What irritated her further was that even now, Ahri was merely pouting in the same cutesy way she always did as she picked herself up from the floor.

"I suppose I _should_ explain myself a bit more… But I'll keep it short," she stated. "It's very simple, my dear. It's just as I said: I fell for you. The moment you saved my life, I saw you in an entirely different light and it… _attracted_ me to you. I couldn't get you out of my head and the more I contemplated, the more I came to realize that I just had to see you again."

She paused. When the swordswoman didn't reply, the brunette continued with a friendly smile, "Besides, I saw it, Riven: the darkness that lies in your eyes, the burden you carry all by yourself… It's the same thing that wakes you up at night. I knew I had to help you."

The warrior's muscles relaxed (slightly) but she kept her guard up. Ahri wanted to… help her? A feeling of guilt settled in her stomach. This woman wanted to help her, and she had barred her off.

"As for my rather promiscuous demeanour," the Kumiho added, chuckling warmly. "It's just who I am. It's in my nature to be coquettish, and I understand why humans tend to not take people seriously at times when they behave like this, but trust me on this, my dear." She took a step closer, an amiable look in golden orbs. "I've never been more serious in my entire life and that, my love, says a lot."

The ash-blonde stood there, mouth agape. This was absurd. If anyone would tell her that this had happened to them, she'd dismiss them and label them as mad, and yet the truth was right before her eyes.

"I might have gone overboard at times," Ahri then admitted. "But I can't help it, I'm madly in love with you, Riven."

_Love._ The mercenary's stomach turned at the sound and thought of the word. She waved dismissively at her hostess as she shook her head to clear her thoughts. This wasn't the time or place to get distracted – she could sort those thoughts later.

"Enough… How did you even find me? I kept moving from place to place the whole winter." Riven wasn't particularly interested, but she needed to change the subject.

"You certainly did move around," the Ionian remarked. "The scent of other humans interfered as well… It was quite the task to follow your track, but I managed, for you have a scent that differs from others. And did you know that foxes' auditory perception is acute? I recognized your voice from far away, and it got clearer the closer I got." Ahri giggled. "And besides, you were several days away when I finally decided to look for you, so catching up with you took time. And when I did find you, I conjured up this little plan to approach you as a human, and win you over that way. I'm more comfortable like this, but the things you do when you're in love –"

"Don't say that." The warrior's voice was raised with anger. Her hands balled into clenched fists and she gritted her teeth.

The Kumiho eyed her guest worriedly. "…Say what? Love? But, it's the truth –"

Whatever Ahri said after that, it didn't register in Riven's mind. Love. That damned word… Riven didn't even know a tiny bit about that. She once thought she had known, and a flash of red tresses came to mind… She bristled. She remembered that day well, the day she had not only lost her faith in her homeland, but also the one person she had come to-

…

_/It was another young night inside that room made of dark stone and decorated with red carpets. Aside from the filtered moonlight, _a_ few candles and a fireplace illuminated the room, casting flickering shadows all around. Two naked forms shared a single, large bed of crimson silk._

"_Something on your mind?" one of the forms asked. "You seem distant."_

_Hazel orbs looked up to meet blue-green ones, and the field-commander managed a barely noticeable smile. "I was thinking…" she replied, closing her eyes again as she rested her head on soft, lean legs. A hand ran through her pale tresses. "No… Never mind."_

"_It's not something meaningless, is it?" The other woman laughed, but her laugh was cut short. "You have my attention."_

_She hesitated. With a deep breath, Riven sat up, and saw her reflection in blue-green eyes. "…What am I to you?" She immediately regretted her question, but those same pools flashed briefly with amusement._

_A hand reached out to cup an ample mound of malleable flesh, and the swordswoman moaned quietly at the touch._

"_So it was nonsense," the other person stated with a smirk. "It's pointless to dwell on such things, Riven. You know full well what you are to me, and there's no shame in what you are." The ash-blonde was yanked closer, their lips crashing together in a rough, searing kiss that left her lips swollen. "Just do as you're told, __**pet**__."_

_The feeling of disappointment lingered at the back of Riven's mind, but it gave way for the addictive pleasure-pain from fingernails drawing scarlet lines across tan, supple skin, and licks and nibbles on sensitive buds. "Ngh…! M-Mistress…!" _

_**So good…**__ But she still wanted to know…_

"_I've only just started," was the reply. "But look at you. Dripping wet like a bitch in heat."_

_Cheeks blushed hotly with shame and desire. But she still had to know…_

"_Ahh!"_

_Was there anything more than this sensuality between them?_

"_You're delicious, as always," her partner_ _noted, licking her lips. "Fuck, I could never get tired of you. I knew you were special, but this…"_

_What did she mean by ´special´? She had been called that by her Mistress before, but what had she meant?_

_Riven bucked, willingly offering her body to the redhead as skilful digits curled inside hot, wet depth._

"_Ngh…! Ahh! Mistress Katarina…!"_

_The assassin merely snickered against her lover's throat./_

Used and abused, that's what had happened. Riven had been a fool to imagine that there was something else besides physical intimacy.

"Is something wrong, Riven?" Hazel eyes looked up and widened with shock at how close the Kumiho was. A hand was resting on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "You look troubled…"

"Don't touch me," the Noxian said coldly.

"Riven, please listen-"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

It happened in a flash. The swordswoman's left fist connected with her hostess's abdomen, sending the latter back and onto the floor with a heavy _´slam´_ and a sharp, high-pitched yelp. The brunette curled into a ball, clutching her stomach as she gasped for air and coughed, and Riven could only stare, petrified in shock over her action. Her gaze shifted between Ahri and her fist.

The ash-blonde was shaking.

Without thought, the warrior immediately relaxed and said the only thing she thought of: "I'm so-"

"Perhaps I shouldn't have rushed things like this…" the Kumiho interrupted as she, still clutching her abdomen, forced herself up into a sitting position. "This is a lot to take in after all…You humans tend to prefer to take things slowly… But this, my dear, _hurt_."

Riven swallowed hard. She lowered her gaze, feeling both guilty and shameful for reasons she didn't understand, but she decided to not question them. The mercenary knew when she had crossed the line.

"Why don't you take a stroll? You know, clear your mind and let it all sink in?" Their eyes met and, strangely enough, her hostess was smiling. "I'm sure it'll help."

Riven didn't answer. Her gaze strayed over to her sword and she crossed the short distance and picked it up without a second glance at the brunette.

She stood there for a minute. "…Are you serious in letting me go? I may not come back."

"I can easily find you again," was the reply, and the giggle that followed suit sent a shiver down the Noxian's spine.

The tan woman strode calmly towards the door, but came to another halt at the doorway when her hostess spoke again: "You know, that punch of yours is something I really could eat your insides for. But you know what?" She didn't wait for her guest to reply. "I won't, because I truly care about you, Riven. I just want to be with you. Hopefully, you'll understand and come back to me."

With her heart beating quickly, the swordswoman left the hanok.

**X.x.X.x.X**

The rain hadn't stopped. Riven had run without pause straight to the Placidium, her breath shallow and heartbeat rapid against her ribs. She was soaking wet when she finally allowed her legs to slow down until she was walking and sought shelter underneath one of the buildings support-columns.

The warrior panted heavily and slumped against the stone wall. Despite the frigid downpour, her body was blazing hot, but she didn't care; her mind was elsewhere. Fear, confusion, astonishment, she didn't know what to feel anymore, for Ahri was the embodiment of all of this and more. She was a Kumiho, a mythical creature that should be just that: a myth. Not existing in the flesh.

The ash-blonde shook her head, but her thoughts kept going back to the mythical fox-human. What else she could be hiding from her? Was she perhaps following her even now? The brunette had told her she could easily find her again…

Perhaps, Riven pondered, she should try and leave the island right away? She still had her purse, and there was bound to be a ship setting sail soon enough… One trip back to the continent and she'd be right on track –

_Don't go. Don't go, Riven._

The Ionian came flooding back to the Exile's mind. She remembered the pure _hurt_ in then-azure eyes and the kiss that had followed shortly after. It had felt…pleasant. Great, even, to share such an intimate moment with her-

What was she thinking? The Ionian was not human! She could very well be hiding something else from the warrior – something possibly more dire and life-threatening! This wasn't the first time she had been caught in a trap, and this ordeal served only to refresh that particular memory…

_/The Fury Company was passing through the Coeur Valley when the sounds of footsteps from ahead of them reached Riven and her soldiers. As they halted, a lone girl – perhaps a little older than the Field-Commander – emerged from the fog. Her clothes were matted with blood. The moment she saw Riven's company, her eyes widened and she fell to her knees and wept._

_A civilian. Neither Riven nor her men had been trained to handle non-combatants. As soon as the two soldiers she sent to retrieve the girl reached her, they fell limply to the ground and their corpses rose up instead._

_Except that they weren't corpses._

_Panic bloomed inside the warrior's chest. "AMBUSH!" she yelled, but the cries of her men drowned it out as they fought the Ionians, who had with no doubt laid here for a long time, waiting to strike back at their invaders. Even the girl, whose eyes were glowing with hate, mercilessly slaughtered her men./_

Looks could deceive. She had learned that the hard way, and with a Kumiho, appearance was everything when it came to luring humans into a false sense of security. You couldn't judge people by their appearance. And as sincere as Ahri was there was nothing that could assure the tan woman that her hostess meant no harm.

…And yet, what was this hurtful sensation that had plagued her from the very beginning? Had Riven been foolish to suspect that the brunette was anything but untrustworthy? If Ahri hadn't shed her disguise, would the two of them be eating dinner and enjoying each other's company for another day?

"_That's a gloomy face you're wearing, Noxian."_

Hazel eyes snapped wide open. The voice was familiar and Riven turned to see the silver-haired Captain of the Guard at arm's length. Her expression was passive, eyes narrowed. She seemed to be wearing the same attire as the last time she had seen the woman, but now she was cloaked in an olive-green hooded raincoat, the Mantle of Decorum hovering right behind her.

If the swordswoman hadn't been in such an uneasy state, she'd even be glad to see Irelia. The young Ionian's eyes were still narrowed as if inspecting the mercenary and the latter noticed the handful of guards standing a few metres away, observing them.

"You look weary, and you're soaked to the core," Irelia began. "What's the matter?"

Why did she care? Did she care at all? Or was she merely making sure the Noxian wasn't up to something? Riven shut her eyes for a moment, and breathed deeply. She couldn't very well tell anyone about the Kumiho, lest she be labelled as mad and laughed at. But she couldn't dismiss the very captain of the city's guard, could she?

Hesitantly, the Exile replied, "…I'm in an undesirable situation, ma'am." A thin, silver-white eyebrow arched, but Irelia didn't respond. She crossed her arms as if waiting and the Noxian continued. "Nothing you would need to be worried about…"

"If you feel the need to say that, then it only makes me more suspicious," the Ionian said. "However, I can tell you're not lying. And I know for a fact that you haven't attempted anything while visiting the Placidium." She allowed a small smirk. "My guards have been keeping an eye on you whenever you set foot in the city."

The former field-commander didn't know whether to be thankful or upset about being monitored. She opted instead to take a chance. "…Miss Irelia, may I ask you something?"

The silver-haired woman looked surprised, but she nodded. "Go ahead."

Riven didn't look her in the eyes when she inquired, "…What do you know about foxes? Myths and the like, I mean."

Perhaps the Captain of the Guard had a good poker-face, but she didn't seem fazed by the question. "Hm? Foxes? I dare say that all of Ionia knows of the myths regarding fox-spirits, but I'm surprised you would be interested in them. But I'll indulge you. Foxes are very common here on Ionia, specifically the southern areas. Myths tend to describe them as pranksters and tricksters, and some go even further as portraying them as shapeshifters who feast on humans."

_´Just like what that man said…´_ the mercenary thought bitterly.

"People tend to say that foxes have dual nature," Irelia explained. "They help you by protecting the crops from rodent damage, but they'll just as soon steal a chicken. It's the same way they act towards humans; at one moment they'll help you, but at the next moment they'll cause mischief – or worse. Generally, they judge people by their reactions and deal with them accordingly. To take things further, there's stories of old about foxes who live for thousands of years, and are able to shapeshift into humans. As a result, they're an object of fear amongst Ionians."

The Exile sighed. All signs seemed to point towards Kumihos being untrustworthy.

"But not all stories about them portray them as bad." Riven threw a puzzled glance towards the silver-haired captain. "Few as they might be, there are also stories about foxes – Kumiho's, as they're called – who fall in love with humans and end up marrying them. Others describe them as friendly beings that always repay debts, and are bringers of good fortune."

_´Bringer of good fortune? Always repay debts?´_ Didn't that sound familiar? The warrior thought back to earlier incidents; the purse she found a while back… Did that have anything to do with Ahri?

No. That had to be a coincidence. Though it had only happened **after** she encountered the Kumiho… But this was the least of her worries.

"What kind of debts would they even want to repay?"

Irelia studied the Exile. "Why, if the human ever did them a favour, or helped them out in some way, I suppose. But what does any of this have to do with you nearly catching a cold?"

Riven turned away. "…Nothing. I just want to think of something else." That wasn't necessarily a lie, but the topic hardly took her mind off Ahri.

Speaking of her, was that what it was all about? A debt? The swordswoman had indeed saved her from a trap… Did that mean Ahri's hospitality and friendliness stemmed from the need of simply wanting to repay Riven—to give a proper "thank you"?

The swordswoman scowled at the idea.

Once the Noxian had managed to clear her thoughts, the two kept chatting and Riven learned more about the young captain; she hadn't acquired her position of the Ionian guard by experience and dedication alone. She had seen her fair share of death. She was calm, but what lay underneath, Riven guessed, was unimaginable power that could rival her own – there had to be. How else were the four-pronged blade parts hovering unaided above the ground? It was hardly the strangest thing the warrior had come across, but she would not pry.

And yet, she didn't seem to be that much older than the Exile… was she even younger? For some reason, the mercenary didn't dare ask.

As Irelia was about to leave, an idea came to Riven's mind. "Miss Irelia, might I ask you something else?"

The silver-haired girl nodded. "Ask away. I can't promise I'll answer, though." Was that a hint of playfulness Riven detected? Impossible.

"The duchess – the Enlightened One," the ash-blonde began, and emerald pools widened. She already regretted asking. "Is there any chance I may gain audience with her?"

Irelia's blade twitched and Riven gripped the pommel of her sword, but Irelia's expression softened, calming her down. "…It wouldn't be a good idea right now. Besides, even if I and the guards were to accompany you, there's no way we could allow a Noxian to see the leader of our people." Her eyes narrowed. "For what reasons would you want to meet the Enlightened One?"

"Her title says it all," the former field-commander stated plainly. "I seek just that: enlightenment. And if there's anyone who can help me on my path to atonement, it has to be her."

The Captain of the Ionian Guard didn't reply. She stared without blinking, her lips a thin line, and her weapon immobile. And then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, she sighed. "So that's what it this is about… I mentioned it the last time we met, the weight you carry hangs in the very air around you. I understand now. But I still can't let you see the duchess," Irelia stated, but then she smiled vaguely. "Not _yet_, anyway."

The brief smile was returned. "You have my thanks, Miss Irelia."

"Drop the ´Miss´ – I'm not old." Her smile was broader. "Just promise me one thing, Riven." Why did it sound so thrilling when her name rolled off the silver-haired girl's tongue? And the look in her eyes… "Stay out of trouble for me." She left before the Noxian had a chance to answer, and the entourage of guards disappeared into the rainy streets.

Once again alone and duelling with unpleasant thoughts, Riven sighed, idly watching the cascade of droplets crashing against the paved stones.

_Ahri_ – that woman wouldn't leave her mind. She claimed she loved Riven, but was that true? The mercenary remembered the kiss they had shared, the feeling of her hostess' soft lips and the warmth of her embrace as she pleaded for the Exile to not leave, and the warrior laid a hand over her breast.

Her heart was beating quickly. Gone was suspicion and dread, if only briefly, to make way for something the warrior hadn't felt in years: a yearning for closeness. Despite what had transpired, Riven knew that there was no denying that, for better or worse, the Ionian had wormed her way into the warrior's heart. There was something there, and it made Riven hesitate about leaving the island – about leaving _Ahri_ behind.

The brunette had had ample opportunities to kill her and get away with it, too. She could've snapped the Noxian's neck in her sleep, spilled her guts with one move if she had wanted to. Instead, she had done everything to ensure that Riven – a foreigner whose nationality was enough to wake Ionia's ire – had a roof over her head, home cooked meals every day and even loved her. So much different than…

_/"Riven." The ash-blonde looked up to meet aquamarine eyes and a brow that furrowed into a scowl. "I need a word with you."_

_They both knew what that meant. It had almost become a code of sorts. The swordswoman chewed her food, her expression sour as fellow Noxians in the barrack shifted their attention towards the women. "…I'm eating right now. Can it wait?" The drills for the day had been taxing on her, and the meals did little to keep the hunger away for long._

_As those ruby lips drew a thin line, Riven knew she didn't have a choice but then again, had she ever had one? "My chamber, __**now**__."_

_The tan woman sighed in defeat and let go of her utensils. This became more of a routine than anything and with the redhead being a daughter of a prominent, high-ranking general, there was little Riven could do. Neither said a word the whole way until the doors to the assassin's chambers clicked as they were locked behind them._

"_Good work on the training-rounds today," she commented as weapons were cast aside on a high-back chair. "You do Noxus proud, but I expect no less from Noxus' "poster child"."_

_The fighter managed a small smile. "Thank you, Mistress…"_

_The redhead threw a tooth-flashing grin. "I believe that deserves a reward, don't you agree?"_

_The swordswoman's heart sank. With no other option, she did the same thing she always did when being in this room; she got undressed and laid on the bed as the young Du Couteau-woman made her way towards her. Despite having grown tired of being used like an object to sate her mistress' lust, Riven's sex was already wet._

_For how long had this been going on now? The warrior had long since lost count, but the ordeals were always the same; she'd lie down, let the redhead do what she wanted before Riven was forced to please her mistress._

_She was an object, nothing more._

_A small eternity later, they basked in the afterglow and as always, there was no cuddling. That only occurred if her mistress was in the mood for more._

_Then, the silence was broken as the young Du Couteau turned towards her and said, "I've been meaning to tell you something."_

"_Yes, Mistress?"_

"_You've showed great potential since the very beginning. The High Command sees great things in you – your weapon is a testament to that," the redhead mentioned, motioning over to the other side of the room where the black-stone rune sword leaned against the wall. She smirked. "You're about to be deployed to Ionia, but before that happens, you should know that there's a position open for you within the Crimson Elite."_

_Hazel eyes snapped wide open. The Crimson Elite? Riven knew only that her mistress was part of it, but the rest was shrouded in mystery, save for rumours. But this meant-_

"_You wish me to be at your side, Mistr-" Riven began, but the assassin wasn't looking at her._

"_If you were to join the Crimson Elite, you would grow stronger. You'd be a weapon unlike any other against not only Demacia, but any nation that would oppose Noxus."_

_So, that's what she had in mind. The warrior bristled, but didn't let it show on her expression despite herself._

"_You'd grow stronger…and you wouldn't have to stay in the barracks with the others. Your potential is wasted as a mere soldier, Pet."_

_A ´mere´ soldier, huh? Her hands clenched into fists and before she knew it, Riven sat up, eyes narrowed._

"_Katarina." She caught herself too late. Never had she addressed the redhead by her name only. But she pressed on. "I… I have to think about it. I'm honoured, don't get me wrong –"_

"_I know what this is about." The ash-blonde swallowed hard as Katarina crawled over to her, her gaze cold for a moment before she smirked in that unnerving way she always did. "You wish to wait until you've been to Ionia. I should've known you wouldn't want to miss a chance for battle, my pet." She leant in and roughly kissed the swordswoman. "So be it, then. Once you have returned victorious, you'll join the Crimson Elite."_

_Tch. She had already decided for her? Riven wanted to tell her off, but the consequences were too dire._

_Instead, she decided to remain silent and nodded. /_

The Exile grimaced at the memory. The difference between Katarina and Ahri was like night and day. She knew what their relationship had been based on. It was carnal desires; bodily yearning for touch, scent, and taste of one another, but despite it Riven had deep down hoped for there to be more behind it; like a meeting of souls, a deeper understanding of the minds on a much higher level. She had hoped there was something more than just the unquenchable lust and thrill of domination between the two.

She had been wrong, and she had been foolish to think otherwise.

Since then, Katarina served as a constant reminder that it was better to be a Lone Wolf, someone who didn't need anyone else but themselves and Riven had adapted quickly, but even so…

_Don't go, Riven._

_´Ahri…´_ The Exile let out a heavy sigh. _´I wonder what she's doing right now.´_

Kumiho or not, Ahri was probably the closest thing to a friend she had ever had. Debt or no debt, it still meant that the Ionian did care and wished the Noxian no harm.

With a heavy heart and a mind full of questions, the former field-commander headed for the streets.

**X.x.X.x.X**

There was no response when Riven entered the hanok. It was silent, with only the pelting raindrops against the roof breaking the quietness that resided in the dark home. Footgear off, the warrior made her way to the living-room where she found her hostess near the veranda, a bottle and two cups on top of the small table that she had moved. Her back was turned towards Riven, her nine lithe tails sprawled around her.

It wasn't until the tan woman stepped to the middle of the room that chrome eyes glanced back at her. "Feeling any better?" She sounded concerned.

Riven didn't answer. Instead she hesitantly crossed the rest of the room and sat down on the other end of the table. She poured herself some snake-blood wine and sipped as she gazed out at the rain. "I am."

"I'm glad to hear that," Ahri said. Silence once again overtook the room as the woman sat and watched the downpour. "…You're drenched. You should change or you'll catch a cold."

No response. After a minute or two, the warrior put down her cup and removed her shoulder-pad, hood, and glove. The Kumiho chuckled.

"That's hardly any different, my dear." The ash-blonde didn't look in her direction. More time passed in silence, and the brunette sighed. "I suppose you're still upset with me. I understand. I can't blame you; you've got every right to be. But know this, Riven – I may be not completely human, but that was the only thing I kept secret, and trust me, I didn't want to. Everything else is the truth. My feelings for you are all real. Please, believe me. I am still the same woman as before."

Riven remained quiet.

Ahri's tails fluttered and her gaze strayed from the stoic warrior. "…If you wish to leave, you may. I know what they say: "If you love someone, let them go". If you really have to walk alone, then I won't stop you." She laughed sadly. "Although I can't promise I won't try to find you again… I won't lie; it has been fun. I haven't had this much fun in ages."

Still no reply. The rolling thunder echoed in the distance.

The woman sat a moment longer and observed the weather before the Noxian finally got up. The brunette threw a quick glance – was she about to leave? – when Riven surprisingly sat down beside the Kumiho, eyes directed towards the outdoors.

The Ionain's golden pools widened. "Riven…?"

An arm was slung over the Kumiho's shoulders and pulled her close. The Ionian let out a soft gasp as she found herself pressed up into the warm (but wet) proximity of her guest and looked up at hazel orbs in appreciation and confusion. "Riven?"

"You won't get rid of me that easily," the swordswoman finally said, and she swore she heard Ahri breathlessly gasp and expected her to return the embrace.

The fox-woman's expression soured. "You're uncomfortable."

Riven nodded. "I am."

Ahri sighed. "Don't force yourself, dear. Let go."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't know." She really didn't know why. But it felt right – that's what mattered.

Her hostess' expression changed and she giggled and snuggled up against the other woman with a pleased purr, arms wrapping around a slender waist. Her furry ears twitched and her tails wagged slightly, some of which coiled around the two women. "Don't mind if I help myself, then~"

This was both alarming and pleasant, but the Exile didn't want this to stop. It really felt right.

"Oh my, you're really not putting up any resistance~" Riven tensed at the sound of Ahri's vixenish voice. The brunette playfully raked a nail against the ash-blonde's chin. "If you want, we can take this to my bedroom… How about it, dear? Want to sleep with me?" She smiled coyly. "In both senses of the word~"

Hmph.

"You can go to bed if you want," the warrior responded. "I think I need to be alone with my thoughts for a while longer."

Ahri pouted in her usual way but got up on her feet. "Very well. I suppose I shouldn't push you." She sauntered over to the doorway, tails swaying from side to side in sync with her hips. She glanced back with a coquettish smile, batting her eyelashes. "You'll join me when you're done, no?"

Temptation was strong with this one. "I thought you said you wouldn't push it."

She snickered. "Spoil-sport. Sleep well then, my dear. Oh, and Riven? I'm grateful for your return."

It wasn't until her hostess had left, when her footsteps no longer could be heard, that the Noxian murmured, "…So am I."

**X.x.X.x.X**

_/She remembered these woods. She had run through here countless times and now as no different._

_She ran, ran, and ran as fast as the wind, as fast as her legs would carry her, but it didn't make a difference. The knife would still fly past her, grazing her cheek with searing pain, and she'd always stop._

"_Did you think you could escape, Riven?"_

_Panicked, the warrior would once again spin around, facing the assassin, whose eyes shined with spite as another dagger was hurled and cut the fighter's leg. The ash-blonde fell down, as always, clutching her leg as Katarina calmly walked over to her, smirking like the sadist she was. "Hurts a lot, doesn't it, traitor?"_

_She kicked Riven in the ribs and forced her onto her back. The swordswoman's vision swam and her pain only grew. No matter what, she never got past this spot._

"_Did you think I'd let you live after what you've done?" Her smirk faded and the redhead bared her teeth. "Oh no, no… Noxus doesn't have need of cowards and neither do I." Katarina kneeled down and straddled Riven and she cried out in pain as weight settled on her aching ribs. "Die smiling."_

_The flash of moonlight reflecting on steel came into her view as the sword plunged straight into her chest—/_

Riven bolted upright in cold sweat. A nightmare. It was only a bad dream. It had been a long time since she had a dream about the assassin, so why now?

Her heart wouldn't stop racing underneath her breast. Suddenly, she didn't trust the shadows – shadows that could easily house an assassin. Was she scared? That couldn't possibly be it! But Riven couldn't deny that the thought of being alone seemed unpleasant…

She got up. She didn't even bother to get dressed and only kept her cotton panties and breast-bindings on as she strode with quick steps to Ahri's room. It was absurd and even downright childish but Riven only knew one thing: tonight, she didn't want to be alone, lone-wolf or not.

The mercenary stepped inside her hostess room and slid the shoji-screen doors shut loud enough for the brunette to wake up, startled.

Her yellow eyes blinked. They glowed in the darkness. "…Riven?"

Riven stood there, her body taut. Her heart was relentlessly pounding and even now she nearly flinched at every strange sound she heard. "…I'd like to take you up on your offer." She expected Ahri to grin, to flirt with her and smile her stupid smile—

The Kumiho nodded. She scooted over and made room in her futon, patting the empty space with a friendly-yet-serious look in her glowing pools of gold. "C´mere…"

The ash-blonde slid under the covers; it was warm, and it smelled of the woman beside her. "…Thank you, Ahri."

"Don't mention it." She felt something soft press chastely against her lips. "Good night, Riven."

Ever since severing her ties with Noxus, Riven hadn't regretted it. Her life as a wanderer, a lone-wolf, was a life she had prepared for and welcomed with open arms, even if it meant that she couldn't get too close with anyone again. Even now she was proud over her decision.

But this feeling… the Exile couldn't describe it. All she could think of before she drifted back to sleep was that, for better or worse, she was glad she had met the fox-woman.

**To be continued…**


End file.
